The Potions Master's Storeroom
by dressagegrrrl
Summary: An act of good will changes the relationship between the Charms mistress and the stodgy Potions master. Hermione regrets never becoming a decent Occlumens. Severus is pleased she isn't. Fluffy and sweet.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So, I'm in the midst of writing the Draco sequel to Disguised Affections, but this little plot bunny wouldn't let me go! So, here's the first chapter in a little smutty short that I felt compelled to write about our favorite member of the Golden Trio and the snarky Potions master. I hope you enjoy it!_

_This is a work of fanfiction and, as such, I make no money on it. Anything you recognize belongs to the lovely JK Rowling._

_Thanks to WriterMerrin for her super-fast beta job!  
_

* * *

I asked him to dance. What else could I do? The poor man needed someone to rescue him. He was staring at Professor Trelawney with barely-masked horror, her tentacular arms tangled around his spare frame as if she was trying to drag him down into the murky depths of her idiocy.

"Dear Professor Snape, I have _foreseen_ this. My inner eye speaks truth!" Her voice quavered, frothy with portent. "It is already coming to pass. Our wishes are immaterial in this matter!"

"Madame, I must ask you _once again_ to remove your hands from my person. Your attentions are unseemly." His thin lips were pulled into a snarl as he attempted to remove her fisted hands from his frock coat without her tenacious grip ripping the damn thing off him.

"But Professor – no, I must be courageous! _Severus_, you must know that we are destined for one another. I have _seen_ our milky limbs entangled. It is as plain to me as the nose on your very face." Her eyes bulged earnestly as she pressed her less-than-ample bosom into his arm. I covered a smile with my palm.

"Severus, how good of you to wait for me!" I blundered into the situation with as much grace as an adolescent buck in rutting season. The smile I flashed at Professor Trelawney was the human equivalent of locking horns. Crossing my arms under my breasts, I simpered, secure in the knowledge that _my_ horns were much bigger.

…Not that I was interested in getting into a confrontation over the snarky Potions professor, but I considered myself to be quite the humanitarian - looking out for my fellows and all that.

"I'm ready for my dance now. I do hope that I haven't kept you waiting too long?"

His mouth opened and then closed with a snap when my eyes rolled significantly towards the Divination professor. "Ms. Granger, I have been waiting for a solid ten minutes. One would think that you would have learned to read a clock before being allowed to graduate, but I see that I was mistaken. Now kindly shut up so that I can actually _enjoy_ my dance without your incessant chatter."

_Well_. For Severus Snape that was practically a marriage proposal.

He stepped forward and held out a pale hand. Taking it, I allowed him to curve the other around my waist, just above where my hip flared.

I hadn't expected his skin to be so warm.

Or for his hand on my side to feel so intimate on the green silk of my gown.

Honestly, it should be clear by now that I hadn't exactly thought any of this through. Although I was sincere in my desire to save the man from the grasping machinations of Sybil Trelawney, I hadn't gotten to the part where I pictured what it would feel like to dance with him. Severus Snape was a man that holds the world at arms' length in both a literal and metaphorical way.

Suddenly, after knowing the git for twelve years, I was standing closer to him than I had ever been before, and he smelled heavenly… like mint and juniper.

I swallowed.

We waited several beats to hear the rhythm of the waltz and then we were moving, navigating through students in tight dresses and ill-fitting formal robes. Biting the inside of my cheek to prevent a smile from escaping, I mused that I felt like I was dancing with a shark surrounded by a school of guppies. A shark in perfectly-tailored dress robes. I cleared my throat as my left hand curled around his shoulder. A nicely-muscled shark in perfectly-tailored dress robes. And scary, yellowed teeth.

"Ms. Granger, I am not sure what you think you are about, but I assure you I am not a person with whom you should trifle." He stared fixedly, coldly over my shoulder, but his hands were so damn hot that his words felt like a balm to my overexcited nerves.

"It's Professor as you very well know, and I'm sorry. I didn't understand that you really wanted to dance with our wooly-headed Divinations idiot and listen to her wax poetic on your naked, entwined limbs." I was proud that my voice sounded amused and tolerant instead of breathy.

His eyebrows rose a scant millimeter. "You are hardly one to describe another person as 'wooly-headed.'" The Potions master nodded significantly towards my half-hearted attempt to restrain my mass of Whomping Willow-inspired coiffure.

I sniffed. "Of course I meant it figuratively; all of that mystical eye nonsense is enough to give me heartburn."

His hand flexed on my waist, and I jumped. "Perhaps it was the copious amounts of crab dip which you consumed rather than any fault of Sybil's." His voice was soft but seemed to have a touch of humor.

I found it remarkably difficult to look him in the eye when all I could think about were his hands. It's with no small bit of remorse that I admit I'm a terrible Occlumens. "Rubbish." I stared fixedly at the silver buttons on his frock coat, noticing for the first time that they were emblazoned with his initials; matching S's proudly formed by two copulating snakes. My eyes jerked to his in shock.

His lips tipped up in what, on anyone else, I would have called a grin. "You shouldn't eat rubbish, Ms. Granger."

"It's Professor," I whispered unconvincingly. He tugged me a bit closer, and my belly flip-flopped.

We fell into silence as he led me around the Great Hall. Severus Snape was not a great dancer, but he was decent enough. I didn't get my feet trampled, but neither did I succumb to any corny clichés. There was no dancing on clouds nor would I say our dance was a life-changing experience. However, my perception of the Hogwarts Potions master _did_ change.

Forget the greasy hair, the crooked teeth, and beaky nose. The man was sex on two feet.

Surreptitiously, I leaned in closer to get another whiff of his scent.

"Professor Granger, I must warn you once again that I am not a man with whom you should trifle. While I am sure that you shall recount your dance with the Great Bat of the Dungeons in loving detail and with much sniggering to Ms. Weasley at a later date, I am fully aware of when I am being made the brunt of a joke." His hand squeezed mine a trifle too firmly. "And I do not appreciate it."

Despite his words, Professor Snape was not acting overtly hostile to me, and I guessed that his words were more a matter of form; a warning of sorts, or perhaps they were meant as protection from being hurt by unscrupulous females. I pulled back a bit and looked up at his face. "Would you like to get a drink with me sometime?"

"I do not drink, Ms. Granger." His voice was austere, and he reverted to looking back over my shoulder. "I did far too much of it during the war and have no desire to revisit the follies of my past."

My heart sank. "It's Professor, and I understand. Well, maybe another time…"

"Tomorrow I will be sorting my Potions storage room."

I bit my lip. "Oh? How meticulous." He didn't need to make it so obvious that he was disinterested. I would have been much happier receiving a polite brush-off, especially as we were currently ensconced in a sea of overly hormonal teenagers made giddy off of the Christmas punch (which I was at least seventy-five percent certain had been spiked by the Montrose boy).

"You've always had an orderly mind and good eye for Potions. Perhaps you'd care to help me?" My eyes jerked to meet his, and I suddenly felt myself drowning in a sea of black. All sorts of naughty scenarios flooded my brain at his velvet suggestion, and I had a sudden vivid desire to be taken roughly against a storage shelf, listening to the clink of ingredients as they jumped in time to the snap of his lean hips against mine.

I saw his mouth slowly curl into an intensely smug smile, and with horror, I realized that he'd caught a glimpse of my lust-drenched thoughts. My face burned hot, hotter even than his wicked hands, one of which had slid down to rest on my hip and was tracing small circles to my distraction. My eyes glued themselves to my feet.

"Ah well, Professor Snape, we shall have to see. I'm really awfully busy, and I'm unsure that I'll be free at any point tomorrow." What on earth was this drivel pouring out of my mouth? Here was this man to whom I was undoubtedly attracted inviting me into his private spaces, and I was ready to flee like a second year with her hand caught in the Boomslang skin. Snape didn't seem put off by my metaphorically loose knickers… and it's not like they _are_ – my intention was to _save_ the dunderhead not convince him to drop his trousers for my enjoyment. So, why was I running? I bit my lip, undecided.

"Well, if you decide to join me, I shall see you at four, after we've seen the students to King's Cross for their holidays." Snape released his grasp on my hip and ran his thumb over the corner of my mouth, pulling my lip from between my teeth. "Don't do that, Professor Granger. You're a woman of three and thirty, not a teenager."

I gasped, outraged. "I am twenty-seven!"

"It hardly matters." He flipped his hand negligently. "Once a woman hits twenty-five, it's all downhill from there."

"I beg your pardon!" The music ended, and I yanked my hands away from him in indignation. I tried to, anyway. He had a firm but gentle grip on my right hand, and try as I might, I couldn't free myself. "Cease your manhandling this instant, Professor Snape."

"Professor Granger, you are causing a bit of a scene." His voice was a rumble that sounded from deep in his chest, and his thumb dragged softly over the knuckles of my captured hand.

I froze, and my eyes darted to meet his. There was a softness to his eyes that I wouldn't have noticed on anyone else, but because his face was so perpetually hard and closed off, the subtle tenderness of his expression hit me like a blow to my solar plexus. Severus Snape was _teasing_ me!

"Oh, you great, bloody arse!" I mumbled and buried my face in the palm of my free hand to hide my burning cheeks.

"What a charming woman you are; so delicate and refined. I'm no longer sure I want you to help me in the Potions store room. It's possible that a female of your delicate sensibilities would be unable to handle being in such close quarters with rat spleen and flobberworm guts. However, if you decide that you are up to the challenge," here he raised that damned eyebrow and looked down at me, "I shall look forward to seeing you at four pm." Snape bowed over my hand, his lips stopping mere millimeters from touching my skin. And then he left me there, staring after him.

In a daze, I walked towards the teacher's table, wondering what on earth just happened.

Xiomara Hooch grabbed my hand and squealed like a teenager. "I just _knew_ that dress would get someone's attention. I don't think I've ever seen the Greasy Git dance with anyone before."

"Me neither," I said, feeling accosted by the Flying instructor.

"Well? How was it, girl?" The woman's face was eager, her yellow eyes glowing in the candlelight.

I turned to face the dance floor, watching the students move gracelessly against each other. There Snape stood, as solemn as a rook in a crowd of sparrows. Feeling my eyes upon him, he turned his head and smiled at me crookedly. I gasped at the beauty of it and said, "It was absolutely heavenly."

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_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Chapter Two! I do not own Harry Potter. Anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. This is fanfiction, and as such, I make no money on this._

_Thanks to WriterMerrin for her super-fast beta job!_

_

* * *

_

The following day, I did what any sensible woman would do. I hid.

Snape, Minerva McGonagall, and I chaperoned the students to the Hogwarts Express. After loading all of the bumbling first-years onto the train, and reassuring the last swotty student that she had brought enough books to last her through the Christmas hols (I swear that I never realized how annoying I was as a student), I turned to see Professor Snape smirking at me. I winked outrageously and then hid in my room for the rest of the day like a coward.

This was all somewhat surprising. I'd never given the man a second thought beyond, 'Oh, crumbs. He's eaten the last breakfast muffin,' or 'Does he have to _glare_ so much during staff meetings?' Up until our dance the night before, the man had been a bit of Hogwarts furniture! A sort of snarky, eternal couch! In some uncharitable section of my soul, I'd always thought that he'd become a Binns when he died – terrorizing Potions students for centuries to come.

But then… Then he'd put his arms around me and, there'd been a spark between us that had been strong enough to leave me coltish and weak-kneed. I'd never experienced anything remotely like that.

I'd had relationships before, the longest measuring in at just under nine months with Mr. Ronald Weasley. Our time together was spent fighting and shagging, fighting and shagging, interspersed with long intervals of me nagging him to pick up his ragged, corn chip-smelling socks. (Not that he listened.) We eventually broke up because I caught him shagging a blonde with tits the size of Ron's overlarge head (but luckily minus the enormous elephant ears he possessed.) Her name was Mindy, and she was a 'Weaselette,' a Golden Trio groupie of the ginger-loving persuasion.

Of course, Ron was always the weakest link in our little threesome: prone to uncontrollable bouts of anger and jealousy and, as he so clearly proved, susceptible to the most blatant forms of perky-titted flattery. Harry had much more sense, clinging to Ginny and praying for her to save him from all of the lightning-tattooed 'Potheads' that were chasing him.

After the Ginger Menace and I broke up, Ronald had a six month period of enforced celibacy due to a bollocks-shriveling charm his dear sister had the decency to teach me. I dated several other men in quick succession, but realized that they weren't really interested in me; they wanted to be able to go to the bar with their mates and claim they were 'Grangerous' enough to tame the only member of the Golden Trio with a vagina. I honestly think that people have nothing better to do with their sad, uneducated lives than sit around and think up idiotic nicknames for things.

After the sixth Danger Granger in a row, I gave up. It's been a long, horrifyingly celibate three years since then.

The point of this stultifying narrative was that, while I was not completely innocent, I was still inexperienced to a degree. And Severus Snape, in all of his grumpy glory, was most definitely a predator.

He scared the bejesus out of me with his sexy dourness and greasy charm.

Four o'clock came and went. I ate a large box of chocolates to stuff my nerves and desire down farther into my gullet. Five o'clock also passed me by. I drank three glasses of a tawny port, half expecting him to come knocking on my door to demand why I wasn't shagging him against the wall of his storeroom _right then_. By the time the dinner hour rolled around and I was obliged to make my way down to the Great Hall, I was halfway soused and spoiling for a fight.

I walked with drunken dignity, my joints feeling as if they were made from elastic. Relieved that Snape was nowhere in sight, I plopped into an empty seat next to Hagrid and started a lively and heated debate on the rights of Flobberworms. The poor man was completely baffled and kept repeating, "But they's jess _Flobberworms_, 'Ermione."

"What a terribly speciest attitude to take! Do you honestly believe they don't have _feelings_?" My voice was earnest and loud, a glass of port as good as a Sonorous charm on my petite physiology.

"I rather hope they do have feelings. They do wriggle so when I chop them up for Potions ingredients. I would hate to think that all of my pent up frustration is going to waste." I turned to see Professor Snape taking the unoccupied seat to my left. He leaned forward and whispered. "I do enjoy venting on a good Flobberworm. They are adequate replacements for some of Hogwarts' slower students." His smile was sharp.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," I said. The tone I used screamed 'dignity,' as if I hadn't just been caught picking a fight with our Groundskeeper over the rights of invertebrates.

"Ms. Granger." He gave me a perfunctory nod, his black hair swinging.

"It's _Professor_." My teeth were clenched so tightly that I was concerned they might shatter.

"Of course." Snape reached for a roll and buttered it leisurely while watching the few students who had remained on campus for signs of wrongdoing at the dinner table.

Silence stretched between us, tenuous and uneasy. _Why wasn't he taking me to task about standing him up?_ I wondered. He told me himself that he's not a man with whom to trifle. Perhaps he's already planning his revenge. _Have I been watching my food the entire time he's been here?_ I was fairly certain I would have noticed if he'd tried to slip an emetic onto my plate. Hunching over, I placed my arms on either side of my dinner and ate without taking my eyes off my hunch of roast beef and wilty brussel sprouts.

"Rest assured _Professor_ Granger. I have no intention of stealing your dinner. As you see, I've got a nice trout." The bastard sounded amused.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I stood you up." It just tumbled out of my mouth without forethought. If I hadn't been three sheets to the wind, I probably would have used a phrase other than 'stood up' as it implies a date, and he'd said nothing to indicate this would be anything other than strictly professional… although we both knew better, having seen the terribly naughty thoughts running through my head.

"Pardon?" He ate a bite of trout with apparent relish. "This is really quite good. I should send a note to thank the house elves."

I softened marginally towards him. "You know, the Potions storeroom?" Gods, I wished I hadn't drunk so much.

Snape stared at me with a blank expression for a moment before his brow cleared and he said, "Oh, yes. Well, I'm actually quite glad you didn't come. I was called away to St. Mungo's and have only just now returned."

I crammed down all of that chocolate, and the bastard didn't even remember that we were supposed to have dirty sex in a semi-public place. "Finally gone 'round the bend, Professor? Did the men in the white coats come for you?" I was sulky.

He cocked his head. "Actually, they had an accident in their Potions laboratory, and they called me in to consult on safe containment procedures." Snape raised an eyebrow and looked at me from the corner of his eye. "Really, Professor Granger. That was uncharitable of you. Moreover, I would hope that everyone who was involved in the Second War against Voldemort underwent psychiatric evaluation. I certainly have, and it's done me a world of good."

How did he do that? How did he make me feel like a misbehaving teenager so easily? I took a bite of my roast beef and choked it down, refusing to look at him. My lower lip trembled slightly, and I could feel that it wanted to poke out like a petulant child's. I refused to pout.

"Besides, you and I both knew that you had no intention of coming to help."

"How on earth do you know that?"

"My dear Professor Granger, it has long been apparent that Gryffindor bravery is only good for big things – fighting Dark Lords, working at a dragon preserve, selling Quidditch supplies."

I flushed at the mention of Ron and his less-than-stellar post-Hogwarts performance.

"Yes, you are well rid of that one. He was never your equal. Anyway, Gryffindors may be unbearably noble and brave when there are big rewards to be reaped, however, I've met very few that have the sort of interpersonal bravery required to step outside their personal comfort zones and judge someone on their own merits and not some preconceived notion of who they _think_ they are." Snape refused to meet my eyes as he cut his baby potatoes into perfect one inch by one inch cubes. His posture was straight but brittle as he nibbled on his dinner, appearing as if he lost his appetite.

"I'm not like that," I said quietly.

"Of course not," he demurred, still examining his plate.

"I'm not at all like that. I wanted to come." It wasn't a lie. I had wanted to meet with Snape; I had just been terrified. I'd always been a sensible girl, knowing when I was in over my head.

"Really?" Professor Snape turned to look at me, his dark eyes soft and hopeful. Honestly, I'm not sure why that insipid, puppyish expression didn't tip me off. It's doubtful he'd ever wear such a cuddly look for anything other than outright manipulation.

"Of course!" I covered his hand with my own and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Then, Professor Granger, might I be so bold as to ask for your help in gathering some Potions ingredients from the Forbidden Forest this evening? I find that I am short on hollyhock as well as several other items that can only be gathered in cold winter moonlight." His fingers twitched beneath mine and a frisson of electricity jumped directly to my groin.

My drunk, oversexed brain kicked into high gear, and for just a moment, I saw him leaning against an oak tree, his legs spread to shoulder width. I was on my knees before him, and his hands were tangled in my uncooperative hair. He was groaning as I devoured him. God, I'd love to make that man groan.

"Ms. Granger," Snape choked. "Have mercy."

I tore my gaze from his and flushed furiously. "It's _Professor_," I snapped, pushing my chair back abruptly.

As I fled from the Great Hall, I heard him shout out behind me, "I'll pick you up from your rooms at ten this evening, Professor Granger!"

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_A/N: Like it, Love it, Hate it, Review it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Anything you recognize is hers. This is a work of fanfiction, and as such, I make no profit from it._

_Thanks to the wonderful WriterMerrin for the excellent beta work she did on this chapter!_

* * *

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Things had been going so well, and then I had to slip up and feed him an image of me on my knees performing ravenous fellatio upon his person. What on earth was _wrong_ with me? I'd never felt so out of control in my life.

I considered ducking out, of course. I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom and coughed delicately into my hand, trying to look consumptive. I stuck my tongue out and looked at my tonsils. Nope, pink and healthy. My face appeared to be in the very bloom of health. Curse my excellent genes!

Since I was already in the bathroom, my parents' insidious brain-washing had me reaching for my toothbrush and smearing paste on it. Ever since I was a little girl, cleaning my teeth has been a meditative exercise. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I scrubbed the bristles against my molars, rhythmic and gentle, always moving with the grain and never against it. I brushed while I pondered my situation, not stopping the soothing motion until my mouth was covered in froth and I was doing an excellent impression of a rabid squirrel.

_Fact: I danced with Severus Snape at the Yule Ball._

_Fact: I enjoyed my dance with Severus Snape at the Yule Ball._

_Fact: By "enjoyed" I meant that all of my childhood notions of the man had been swept out the window with one arch of his elegant brow. _I paused a moment to scrub my tongue firmly while I struggled to be honest with myself._ Also, I had to change my knickers. That definitely counts as enjoyment._

_Fact: He caught me fantasizing and, to all appearances, would be very receptive to any advances I choose to offer._

_Fact: He scares me._

I spit into the sink and rinsed my mouth out.

I didn't fear his Death Eater past or his uncertain temper. Instead, I was a wreck because I had no clue what he _expected_. Aside from the obvious, of course. My cheeks heated. Was he interested in getting to know me or was it all just about a shag?

Moreover, I hadn't seen anyone socially in ages.

I felt like I should put training wheels on my dating abilities before being expected to be able to perform any dating tricks. Dear lord, that made me sound like a hooker.

But isn't this just what Snape was talking about at dinner? A lack of interpersonal bravery? I'd faced down Voldemort at Harry's side, but here I was scrubbing my teeth until my gums bled at the idea of a man who not only was interested in me, but was most emphatically _not_ a Danger Granger.

"Oh, sod it all. I'm going."

* * *

When my portrait guardian, Guinevere the Dyspeptic, alerted me that Professor Snape was at my door, I was dressed in sensible clothes: a warm cloak, sturdy hiking boots, and the laciest, most feminine pair of knickers I owned. My hair was tied back into a loose bun at the nape of my neck – loose so that it would come apart easily with a tug from manly fingers. I was as ready as I was going to get.

I opened the door with a smile plastered on my face, and Snape fell back a step with a look of disquiet.

"Good lord, woman. Are you in pain?" he said.

"What do you mean?" I continued, smiling determinedly.

Snape stared at me, eyebrows quirked. "Nothing." We stood in silence for a moment before he shifted his weight and gestured to my still-grinning visage. "Miss Granger, I must insist you put those away. You look like you're planning on biting me."

I let the smile drop and worked my aching jaw a bit. "Well," I said, considering, "the night's still young. I'm not ruling anything out."

Snape's lips curled upwards, and I was suddenly struck by his appearance. Although he was still wearing black from head to toe, he'd shucked his stuffy frock coat and instead sported a black zip-up jumper over a pair of well-fitted wool slacks. On his feet was his pair of gently shabby dragon-hide boots. He held his cloak draped over an arm.

Without his normal woolen armor, he looked approachable – more like a man rather than an authority figure, although there was a bit of that, too. It was his posture, I thought. I eyed his broad shoulders and flushed as I pictured the crescent moons I wanted to leave embedded there in his skin. I was careful not to meet his eyes.

We walked together in silence, close enough that his hand would occasionally brush the fabric of my cloak. The stairs swung in our favor, and in no time at all, we were nearing the great double doors that guarded the entranceway. I saw moonlight puddling around a shadow on the floor. As we approached, it resolved itself into the huddled figure of the bespectacled Hogwarts' Divination professor.

"Miss Granger, I feel I must caution you against the action you are about to take." The voice was thin and breathy, carrying strangely in the cold night air.

I squinted my eyes and looked into the dark that curled behind the open door. "Professor Trelawney?"

The woman stepped forward, one hand extended. "Miss Granger, you must take heed and flee from your wicked ways, or death shall come upon you like a thief in the night!"

"Are you threatening me?" I asked incredulously.

"Sybil, Albus has warned you against trying to spook any females who happen to find themselves in my company. I would also take exception to hexing of any sort." There was a firm warning in Snape's voice.

Professor Trelawney ignored him and focused all of her attention on me. "Miss Granger, you do not know the forces which you are unbalancing. I have seen your unholy alliance, and it will bring nothing but sorrow down upon Hogwarts." Her voice rose into a shaky wail, and I winced at its shrill tone.

"Sybil," Snape snarked. "Do shut it. Your interference is not necessary."

"Nor welcomed," I grumbled.

Snape put his hand on the small of my back in a protective gesture and nudged me towards the door. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we actually have work to do." His voice was curt.

We swept past the Divination professor, and once we were outside, the Potions master slid his hand to my hip. His tapered fingers rested on the gentle bone of my pelvis and it was just what I wanted: intimate and affectionate.

"Ms… Pardon, Professor Granger," he began in a low murmur as we approached the forest. A thin dusting of snow crunched under our feet and the night had a bright, otherworldly feel that occurs when the moon reflects off of the white.

"Why do you have so much trouble with that?" I asked, curious.

"You were Ms. Granger to me for ten years before picking up the appellation 'Professor.' It still squeaks a bit if you turn around too quickly," he said, dryly.

"Oh." I wasn't sure if I should feel offended by that remark. "Why don't you call me Hermione, then?"

"I should like that, Hermione."

I shivered as my name rolled off his tongue.

"May I call you Severus?"

"That would please me very much." His hand tightened on my hip. "Hermione, I feel I must draw attention to the elephant between us. It should be fairly obvious what I want to talk to you about."

Oh god, he wanted to talk about my perverted fantasies. It was his own fault for eavesdropping on them… Eyesdropping, whatever. "Is that so?" I said, praying my cool tone would discourage him from pointing out that we were heading into the very woods in which I'd fellated him in my fantasy, and coincidentally he'd just _happened_ to bring his penis along as well.

Severus's fingers slid slowly from my hip to my ribs and I clenched my teeth to keep from moaning. "Yes, I feel it must be addressed."

"Then by all means, Severus." I waved my arm in what was meant to be an offhand fashion, but which looked vaguely threatening instead.

"Hermione, the other night when we were dancing, I couldn't help but notice that..." My heart began to pound. "I couldn't help but notice that you've managed to put on a few pounds since coming to work at Hogwarts." He pinched my waist playfully, and I squealed.

"You bastard!" I punched him quite firmly, but only succeeded in hurting myself. I really need to cut my fingernails.

He laughed, a deep rumble in his chest, and led me into the forest.

* * *

Admittedly, I had pictured this as more of a date than actual work: some sort of perverted excuse to lure me into the dark woods where we could be alone. Obviously, Severus did not. I took the silver sickle he handed me with a mew of disappointment (a very small one!), and slung the bag he'd had stashed in the pocket of his cloak over my shoulder. He gave me a gentle nudge in the direction of the silvered winter hollyhock.

"We each need to fill a bag. Do not touch the flowers as they will burn your skin with the cold. I'd give you a pair of dragon hide gloves, but they negate the magical properties of the plant. Be very, very careful." And with that, he turned his back to me and began to fill his bag with precise movements.

Despite my disappointment and my dislike of the cold, I was still Hermione Granger, the swottiest swot to ever swot the swot. I was fascinated by the winter hollyhocks. Distant cousins of the flowers that could be found in Muggle gardens the world over, winter hollyhocks grew solely in areas with a high magical saturation on winter nights rich with moon. They bloom for a few hours only, before crumbling into frost and frozen dust. The only place in the UK that they could be found with any real ease was the Forbidden Forest.

I knew for a fact that Severus was studying their chemical make up in his research on the Cruciatus Curse. Many people have tried and failed to find a counter curse for the Unforgiveable, and unfortunately, the sheer focus on preventing it has led to a dearth of treatments for post-curse symptoms. If anyone knew how painful it was to recover from that particular spell, it was Severus Snape. I believed he'd have a breakthrough soon, because really, the man was brilliant.

Without complaint, I cut the pulpy, wooden stems until my fingers were sticky from sap and the bag hanging over my shoulder bulged. It was slow work because the blooms lined the stems from top to bottom, and I had no desire to hurt myself. I needed my fingers. Any woman who'd been celibate for three years would. Oh, and also I supposed that I would need to be able to hold a wand in order to teach my Charms classes. Priorities, Hermione. Priorities.

As I cut the final hollyhock, a loose bloom fell from the plant and brushed my index finger as lightly as a kiss. "Oh," I said, startled.

"Oh?" Severus said absently.

"Oh. Ooooh, god." I sucked in my breath as the tingling sensation grew into an aching burn.

"Hermione?" I heard concern in his voice, but I couldn't respond, blindsided by a flash of pain so great I thought the world had dropped away from beneath my feet.

Tears spilled down my cheeks and I began to sob. "Oh, god. Oooooh, Severus, it _hurts_. Make it stop." My teeth were clenched together and began to chatter.

"Foolish girl! Didn't I tell you not to touch the flowers? Quickly, put your finger in your mouth." He dropped his bag and stalked over to me. I fought him when he tried to take my burned hand in his because I didn't want him to touch it, sure that my skin would slough off beneath the lightest brush. The pain was unbelievable and causing waves of nausea to ripple in my belly. "Hermione, listen to me! You must put your finger in your mouth. It will neutralize the acid from the petals."

I was unable to process what he was saying. I could feel the pain burrowing deeper into my flesh, and I began to hyperventilate. Frustrated, he wrapped his left hand around my waist and yanked me against his hard torso, my good hand trapped between our bodies. With his right hand, he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and sucked my burned forefinger into his mouth.

Immediately, the pain trickled into nothing. I stopped fighting him, 100% of my attention focused on the image of Severus Snape suckling on my finger. His tongue swirled over my pad and my mouth fell open as I watched him, our eyes locked together. It was hot and wet and intensely erotic, my other hand creeping up his body to tangle in the collar of his cloak. His rook eyes were intense as he pulled back just far enough so I could see his tongue lave the sensitive skin between my fingers. Immediately, I moaned - a breathy, shocked sound.

"So clumsy," he whispered hoarsely, and then his mouth was on mine. His lips were warm despite the chill air, and he tasted heavenly. Our lips touched and pulled away, touched and pulled away, until I parted mine enough so that his tongue could slip into the warm cavern of my mouth. With every slick slide of his tongue on mine, I grew more focused on this man and what he was doing to me. A tiny, excited noise slipped from my throat and his reaction was immediate.

His hands flexed on my bum and pulled me tight against his erection. I squealed, surprised by the sensation, but when he ground against my core, my eyes rolled back into my head and it turned into a groan of pleasure. It had been so long since I'd been in the arms of a man, and Severus felt very, very right against me.

When I reached up to bury my fingers in his slick hair, he opened his cloak and wrapped me tight. Pulling his mouth from mine, he buried his face in my neck, his cold nose resting in that tender spot where my neck met my shoulder.

"Thank you," I whispered and rested my cheek against his hair. I hoped I wouldn't break out in spots from the grease. "For saving me."

"Hermione, I should very much like the opportunity to get to know you better." Severus's voice was quiet and firm.

"Yes," I said. "Yes."

His grasp tightened around me, and I sighed, content to be trapped in the circle of his arms.

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_A/N: Like it, Love it, Hate it, Review it!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Warning: Fluffiness ensues! _

_Thanks to WriterMerrin for the beta on this. She's spectacular with the SPaG and her comma delivery is always very, VERY needed. :) Thanks, hon._

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I primped before I went down to breakfast the next day and was appalled at myself. I've never been a primper, and images of myself tarted up like a Lavendar or Parvati assaulted me with sharp, painted nails. Putting down my hairbrush was an act of white-knuckled will, and I forced myself to pull my hair back into its habitual messy bun. The robes I put on were slightly nicer than I generally wore to teach, and the color, a gorgeous royal blue, _did_ look nice on me. However, they were the modest cut to which I was accustomed, my naughty bits demurely covered.

I made my way to the Great Hall, feeling a Snapish pleasure that most of the students were gone for the holidays and the corridors were empty. Relaxed, I settled into my seat at the Head Table and spread my napkin on my lap. The Hall was nearly devoid of people except for the Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, myself, and Stuart Montrose – the little blighter I _knew_ spiked the punch at the Yule Ball.

"Hermione, dear, I feel like it's been ages since you and I have had a chance to chit chat." The older woman's brogue covered me like warm treacle. "Why don't you move down here and sit next to me?"

I was a bit reluctant to move. The seat I had chosen was one of the farthest away from her, and I'd picked it in the hope that when Severus came in, he would feel safe enough from scrutiny to sit next to me. Minerva was correct, though. It had been a while since we'd had our last tete-a-tete, and I feared offending her. She'd become like a mother to me since my own parents were killed in the war.

"Of course, Minerva." I picked up my plate and moved next to her, taking a brief moment to pat her hand. "How are you enjoying the book I lent you?"

"It's fascinating, but hardly 'light reading,' as you described. _Arithmantic Principles in Transfigurative Sciences_ – the title alone should have tipped me off. I think to go any farther, I shall need to pick up an Arithmancy primer from Sinistra." Her voice was dry.

"Oh! If you need to borrow a book on Arithmancy, I've got several that…"

"My dear," she interrupted. "Although I appreciate the offer, I think I need something a bit more basic than would be found in your library."

"Oh, of course." I poured us both cups of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar.

"So…" Minerva's voice was carefully offhand. "I saw you danced with Severus at the Yule Ball. That was awfully nice of you. He doesn't often get an opportunity to dance with a pretty young witch." She buttered a piece of toast before biting into it with every evidence of pleasure.

"There was nothing nice about it. It was entirely my pleasure, I assure you." I smiled and felt my cheeks warm.

"Don't be silly. I saw you rescue him from Professor Trelawney. You know I like Sybill just fine, but she can be a bit delusional where he is concerned."

I snorted impolitely into my tea. "That's not _all_ she's delusional about." My cup clattered as I placed it firmly into its saucer. "And besides, Minerva, the dance might have started that way, but by the end of it, I was glad that I had gotten the opportunity to spend the time with him. He's quite funny, you know." I hoped my cheeks weren't as red as I suspected they were.

"Hermione, I must ask you to cease and desist spreading rumors about me. I only find one thing in this world funny, and it is that the weakest third of the Golden Trio is selling jock straps to oversexed Quidditch players." Severus's voice drifted over my shoulder, and mortified, I turned to look at him.

"Professor Snape! Good morning, sir!" I stammered, suddenly feeling like an ickle firstie.

He arched a sooty brow and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I was pleased and reassured when he took the seat next to me. "If you persist in that nonsense, I shall go back to calling you Ms. Granger. You're making me feel terribly old." Severus ran the tips of his fingers over the back of my hand where it rested on the table.

I shivered. His touch marked me as his in front of the headmistress and the few students who were lolling at their tables eating breakfast. Stuart Montrose was watching us, his eyes bulging at the open display of affection from his snarky Potions professor. Severus snarled at the boy, and the fifth-year turned his astonished gaze back to his porridge.

"Severus, you look well this morning," I said, attempting but failing to control the flush that I could feel creeping up my neck.

"Thank you, Hermione." His fingers slid between mine and rubbed. "You look… not unwell."

I looked over to see Minerva's eyes focused on where our hands rested together on the table. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were saucers. An unexpected wave of irritation washed over me. She had spent decades boffing a man fifty years her senior who had an unfortunate habit of losing candies in his beard. For days! Was it really so shocking that I might find a man such as Severus, a powerful wizard in his prime, unbearably attractive? I licked my lips, eyeing his broad shoulders. Casting a sour glance towards her, I flipped my hand palm up so that our fingers could entwine. Spots of color appeared in the headmistress's cheeks and she turned away.

_Serves her right_, I thought.

"Do you have plans for today?" His smooth baritone demanded my attention, and I saw that his mouth was curled in amusement. Apparently, I was an open book to him.

I pulled his hand into my lap and wrapped my fingers around it. "I thought I might go into Diagon Alley. I've several books waiting for me at Flourish & Blotts that I'd like to pick up." I moved Severus's hand a bit farther up my leg and spread it out so that he was cupping my upper thigh. "Do you think you might like to join me?" My tone was deliberately offhand, but I shifted in my chair so that his hand slid even higher. My eyes were wide and (hopefully) guileless.

He smirked and flexed his hand. _Oh, gods_. Had I thought _I_ was seducing _him_? What a joke! One quirk of that haughty eyebrow and a touch of his hands, and I was a pile of socially-unacceptable goo. "It would be my pleasure, Hermione."

* * *

The day was bright and lovely: the sort of day when the sunshine made me want to stretch my arms out and spin with delight. I fairly skipped next to the Potions master who, even with his winter garb on, was still dressed like an ascetic rook. However, his cloak had a sumptuous black fur trim, and his gloves were butter-soft leather that made me realize that Severus had a secret, hedonistic streak a mile wide.

Snow crunched beneath our feet as we walked towards the gates of Hogwarts. I danced a couple of steps ahead, pleased with the noise and excited about our excursion.

"Are you cavorting, madam?" His face was gentle and very nearly hopeful as he watched me enjoy the weather.

"Maybe I am." I danced back to him and ran my hands over his fur trim. Peeking up at him, I laughed to see his flustered but pleased expression.

"Does the prospect of spending the day with me make you that happy?" His voice was teasing, but I heard the uncertain edge beneath it. I understood that answering his question improperly had the potential to wound him.

"The fact that this is a gorgeous day and I am getting away from the school in order to buy books that I have been waiting on for several months pleases me. The fact that I get to spend this perfect day with you makes me ecstatic, Severus." I smiled at him with sincere warmth, and his shoulders straightened, the muscles unspooling with a lazy grace.

He reached for my hand, his touch more tentative than it had been this morning at breakfast. Severus stroked my skin for just a moment before a strange expression crossed his aquiline features. After pausing for a heartbeat, he released me and tucked his hands into his cloak. His shoulders climbed once more towards his ears. I cocked my head, curious. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, of course." He didn't look at me, and in a moment we'd passed through the Hogwarts gates.

I stopped, and he continued to walk, not realizing that he'd left me behind.

"Severus."

He turned to face me, one brow arched like a black rainbow over his eye.

"You can be honest with me. I'd prefer it, you know."

"Of course I can." His shoulders were hunched and his gaze was disbelieving.

"Really. I know that you haven't been used well, even by people who were supposedly your friends. But I don't have an iron in the fire. I just want to get to know you." I was trying desperately to be honest without revealing too much. After all, a cornered Snape was a vicious Snape, and anything that made me vulnerable would be fair game to him. But I wanted Severus to trust me and feel like he could share part of himself with me. Otherwise this would be nothing but a mindless fuck. And although I was libidinous enough that my body was shouting _Yes, yes!_, I was hopeful that this could grow into something more. I _wanted_ something more.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to mine before sliding away like a frightened bird. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"What isn't?" I tried not to sound like I was swallowing my own tongue.

"_This_, you foolish girl," Severus hissed, gesturing between us. "I don't know how to do this."

"Oh." What was he trying to say? Surely he couldn't mean… "Uh, do you mean you've never…" I trailed off and looked at him significantly as if to say _you fill in the blanks._

His mouth tightened, and he stepped close to me, the heat of his body in the winter air a tangible presence against my chest and stomach. "Ms. Granger, do not make foolish assumptions." Severus's fingers tangled in my hair, and he pulled my head to the side, exposing the long line of my neck. "I could make you scream my name with very little effort." His lips trailed nipping kisses to my ear, and I shuddered at his hot, wet breath as he sucked the lobe into his mouth. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and tried to lean into him, my entire attention focused on the naughty things he was doing to me.

With one last, hot kiss, he pulled back. The winter breeze was frigid against the area where his mouth had been. I felt bereft. My hand reached up to cover my neck, and I looked at him with glazed eyes.

"It's the _rest_ that's new to me. I do not know how to be… a _lover_." Severus spoke the word as if it was foreign to him and as unappealing as Dolores Umbridge in nipple tassels.

His meaning washed over me, and my brow cleared. "Oh, I see." I tapped my lips. "What is it you think that lovers are required to do?"

"I don't know. Be sweet and gentle. Give chocolates. Write love poetry. Play nice with their partner's friends. Loll about on the beach in a speedo during joint vacations. All sorts of things that I don't have the inclination to do."

I laughed, although inside I ached for him a bit. The man had given his whole life to the cause, and because of it, he'd never had a real relationship. "I would have no idea what to do if you wrote me poetry or gave me chocolate. I suspect I'd examine it for a hiccoughing draught or something equally evil." We were silent for a moment before I stepped closer to him and rested my cheek against his chest. His arms slowly, carefully, curled around my shoulders. "Can't we try being friends? And then we'll see if anything grows from there."

His heart rate sped up beneath my ear. "I _want_ to…" His voice was tentative, but his fingers tangled in my curls.

"Then let's, Severus. I feel so drawn to you that I don't think I'd ever forgive myself for letting this opportunity to get to know you pass me by." The tip of my nose rubbed gently against the soft skin behind his ear.

He gave a shuddering breath and pulled me tighter against him, wrapping me in his warm cloak. "All right. I can't promise you that I will be what you desire in a beau, but I will try."

We stood pressed together for another endless moment. I imagined that we were both feeling oddly vulnerable and delaying the instant when we'd have to pull back and look each other in the eyes. I tilted my face up until it was buried in his neck and took a deep breath of mint and juniper.

"During this process of… becoming friends…" His voice rumbled.

"Yes?" I pressed my lips to his jaw.

"Am I still allowed to kiss you?"

"I'd be upset if you didn't." I pulled back slightly, raising my face to his, my eyelids fluttering shut.

I waited for his mouth to touch mine, and when it didn't, I cracked an eye open to see him smirking down at me. "Maybe later." He flicked me softly on my nose.

"Jerk," I muttered and pushed up onto my tip toes so that our mouths crashed together. He made a surprised noise and then his lips gentled against mine. Severus sucked on my lower lip, and kissed me so sweetly that my heart ached. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine with a pleased smile curling his lips.

"Are you ready?" he murmured. "Flourish & Blotts is breathlessly awaiting your arrival, I'm sure."

"Hold your horses. I'm busy," I muttered and twined my fingers more tightly in the hair at the nape of his neck.

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_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys! I have been on a reading binge! If you haven't checked out the nominations over on LJ for the SSHG awards, there are some excellent fics just begging to be read and voted on! Also, the holidays slowed me up a bit, too. I solemnly swear the next chapter will come up much faster. :)_

_I own nothing. This is a piece of fanfiction, and everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling._

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OH, AND AURETTE: I tried to write you back, hon, but you've chosen settings that don't allow me to PM you! So I left you a comment on your story, but I don't think you saw it. :(**

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Diagon Alley was bustling with witches and wizards doing their Christmas shopping. I linked my arm through Severus's, ignoring his sardonic glance, and enjoyed the excursion. There were boughs of holly and evergreens over most of the shop doors, and twinkling fairy lights were wrapped around the old-fashioned gas lamps that lined the street.

"Oh, Severus! Look how lovely the decorations are. I adore Christmas." I hugged his arm.

"I hate it," he grumbled. His eyes widened, and he skittishly skirted a lamp post wrapped in lights and tinsel. "Stupid fairy lights."

"How on earth can you hate fairy lights? They're so beautiful and festive."

"First of all, Hermione, if something is 'festive' I probably _will_ hate it. I'm not a Cookies-for-Santa sort of man. Secondly, every idiot knows that the government uses fairy lights to spy on the populace." He lowered his voice. "They're the M.o.M's Christmastime eyes and ears."

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. "What on earth are they spying for? To see how many pairs of wool socks Great Aunt Odelia purchases for little Timmy?"

He pressed his lips together, but I ignored his displeasure and continued.

"No, wait. It's because the Department of Mysteries is trying to solve the age-old question of why people persist in making and giving fruit cakes when nobody likes them, right?" I was laughing so hard, tears were forming in my eyes. "It's all for science, Severus!"

His face was tight, his jaw jutted with irritation. "Laugh all you like, Hermione. I've heard it…" His eyes flitted to the fairy light-wrapped poll, and he took my arm, leading me farther away. Severus's lips tickled my ear when he whispered, "It's true that I'm a suspicious conspiracy theorist where the Ministry is concerned. That _doesn't_ mean they _aren't_ watching our every move. I've heard it on good authority that they've placed Blood spells on their Christmas decorations in order to help them identify witches and wizards that have magical creatures in their ancestry. If Ms. Delacour with her Veela blood were to walk down this street, they'd sniff her out and tag her before she got within twenty feet of a storefront."

My attention wandered to his lips and I tried to estimate how many millimeters they were from my earlobe. He said something about tagging Ms. Delacour, and although I'd have felt just fine if someone had punched that bint after I discovered she'd slept with Ron on our six month anniversary, I was having trouble concentrating on the words coming out of his mouth. Gods, his breath was hot.

"Tell me more," I whispered back, nestling a bit closer so that our chests were pressed together.

"I think they are doing it so that if they ever need a scapegoat, they can point fingers." I pressed my lips to the spot on his neck that rumbled when he spoke. It tingled a bit and I smiled. "Most people are suspicious of those with mixed-heritage, and…" He caught his breath when my tongue touched that same, delicious spot on his neck. "Hermione," he said, his voice suddenly tentative and nervous. "We are in public. It's not seemly."

"Am I not allowed to show affection in front of others?" I looked up into his face which was nervous and torn and gentle.

"I'd really rather not." Darting a keen-eyed glance around us, he stroked his gloved fingers down my cheek once and then stepped away. "I'm a private man." Severus cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "After years of protecting myself from the Dark Lord, I find that I am loathe to show that you might have significance to me beyond being my colleague. It makes me feel… exposed."

I smiled at the way he carefully side-stepped the idea that I was important to him.

"All right then." I smiled at Severus to reassure him that I wasn't upset. "Flourish & Blotts is just there. Shall we?"

At his nod, we entered the store, the bells strung from the frame jingling merrily. He placed his hand on the small of my back and ushered me away from the doorway.

"So, how long before I meet you back here?" he asked.

I bit my lip, excited. I'd never been to the book store with someone who was also a reader. Ron and Harry would dog my footsteps, whining like possessed hounds that needed to go out to potty until I'd finally lose my patience and stomp out. Twenty minutes tops. I decided to push my luck with the Potions master. "An hour?" I said, trying not to sound like I was asking permission.

Severus's eyebrows sank low, and he tucked his hands into his sleeves across his chest. Grumbling, he said, "It's hardly worth having made the trip if we're just going to dash in and dash out."

I stared in consternation at his face, his mouth puckered as if he'd bitten into a lemon. "You want to stay longer?" A smile grew across my face. "You do! Oh, that's just wonderful, Severus. How about you come find me when you're done? Take as _long_ as you _like_."

His brow cleared, and while he was still formulating a response, I kissed the tips of my fingers and pressed them to his lips. Turning on my heel, I skipped away from him towards the Charms section.

* * *

Three hours passed before I'd noticed, surrounded as I was with Charms texts and filled with schoolgirlish glee. My shoulders ached, and I shrugged them stiffly as I stood up to check on Severus. It felt as if every joint in my body cracked, and putting my arms over my head, I stretched like a cat. Merlin, it felt good. There's no body ache like an "I've been hunched over a book too long" ache.

What a sad little woman I am.

I can't believe I thought that. Of _course_ there're better body aches than ones that are reading-induced; one in particular that I hoped to be experiencing soon at Severus's hands. Smirking, I wandered over to the Potions section.

It was mysteriously devoid of snarky, greasy-haired men.

He was likewise missing from the Transfiguration section, the Arithmancy section, and every other remotely academic area. I finally found him surrounded by violent pink and purple pastel book covers that featured swooning, busty witches caught in the arms of virile-looking wizards. What made a wizard look particularly virile? Examining the book in Severus's hand (mysteriously titled "The Curse of the Moist Cauldron"), I decided it had nothing to do with a wizard's appearance, and everything to do with a witch who fainted at the idea of his manly love wand.

"Huh," Severus snorted. "That seems physically impossible. I doubt her legs would bend that way should I try it."

I smirked at that, but my eyes softened when I saw the books stacked carefully on a table near his hip.

_Wooing: The Ins and Outs of Courting_

_Giving your Witch What She Needs_

_Being a Lover: An Emotional Tapestry_

Severus was a brilliant, methodical man, and he was doing what he did best: researching. I pulled back, fearing he would be embarrassed if he knew I was watching him, and returned to the Charms section to wait for him to fetch me in his own time.

When we left the store several hours later, Severus offered me the crook of his arm. His face was uncertain, and I remembered his discomfort with public affection. Smiling gently, I slid my arm through his.

* * *

We had barely taken ten steps outside when I saw him: Ronald Weasley, smug, whey-faced ginger menace, now with Paunch™! _Oh, Christ. He saw me._ Severus must have felt me stiffen, but when he saw his former student, he did nothing but smile. Well, it was less of a friendly gesture, and more of a baboon's menacing baring of teeth, but Ronald was enough of an idiot that he couldn't tell, I'm sure.

"Herms!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide as if he meant to grab me in a bear hug. Breast-crushing meant 'hello' in Weasleyese, I supposed.

I held my hand up to keep him at arms length, and responded with a very prim, "Hello, Ronald."

"Give us a hug, then." His eyes glittered strangely as they flicked between me and the Professor. After having known the git for years, I could practically see the jealousy and suspicion dancing a jig through his monkey brain.

"No thanks." I rubbed my cheek slightly on Severus's bicep, above where my hand rested on the crook of his elbow. I glanced up at his face and saw that the edges of his mouth were turned up at my blatant show of possession.

"Mr. Weasley!" he boomed with false camaraderie. "And when is the blessed event?" Severus gestured toward Ron's belly.

"Very funny, Snape," he growled before turning to face me. "Hermione, luv, it's been ages. Where have you been?"

"The same place I've been for the last three years – Hogwarts. Why are you suddenly curious?" I crossed my arms over my breasts. "Are you suffering from a paucity of loose-knickered women? After all, it's been nine years since Harry killed Voldemort and you started coasting off of his fame. Even the most idiotic of women have got to be waking up to the fact that you sell jock straps for a living."

Severus was looking at me with something like pride while Ron sputtered.

"Herms, don't be like that. We were friends before… any of the rest of it happened. Is it so wrong for me to want to catch up? We've been through a lot together."

"It's true. We have." I looked at his hangdog expression. "However, I am quite sure I don't know this person you've become. If you truly wish to become reacquainted, I will no longer refuse your owls." At this I stepped close and fiercely poked him in the chest. "But let me warn you right now, Ronald Weasely. Your first letter had better contain a very thorough apology. Now if you'll excuse me, Severus and I have pressing business far away from you and your terrible garlic breath."

We left him sputtering behind us as we walked away, and Severus curled his gloved hand over mine.

"I know that you do not care what Mr. Weasley thinks. However, you are aware that he is still close with Mr. Potter and will doubtless inform him that you were seen with me?"

I shrugged and said nothing.

"And that he will most likely disapprove of any… friendship between us?"

"Oh, so what. I'm a big girl. Besides, I'm not sure when you saw Harry last, but he's very different now. Married life has really softened him, and as long as I was happy, he'd manage just fine." I looked up and saw that he was staring fixedly ahead. "How about you? You know Minerva will most likely disapprove. And Albus. Will that bother you?"

"Minerva is a decent human being, but she's also a dried-up old stick. And Albus's only concern right now is that his lemon drop supplier has gone belly up." He still wasn't looking at me, but his hand tightened on mine. "Hermione…"

"Yes?"

"Hermione, I don't want you to react when I tell you something, all right?"

I caught my breath. "All right, Severus."

"Someone is following us." He cursed roughly. "I _knew_ it was a bad idea to talk around the fairy lights!"

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_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it!_

_As a side note, I know that in some Christmas story somewhere, there's an offhand note about how Severus sulks when Hermione decorates a tree with fairy lights because he worries about them staring at him. I thought it was Subversa's "Send Not to Know" (which if you haven't read, it's my favorite Christmas fic!) and wrote her this big long note about it. Yeah, wow. Not her fic. She was super nice about it, although she didn't know where it came from either. Now I'm not sure if I dreamed this up whole cloth or if it's out there in someone's piece that I'm not remembering. It was not intentional or direct yoinkage, but if someone knows which story that is, I'd like to include it in an author's note somewhere._ _Let me know if you have any idea!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: So, it's been a while! Between work and the holidays, I haven't had quite as much time to write. Things have calmed down a bit now, so I'll try to have the next chapter up within a week or two. The fairy lights thing I mention in Chapter 5 - about Severus sulking because he didn't want fairy lights on his Christmas tree because he thought they were staring at him - that was GinnyW's "Slip of the Tongue." It's an adorable story. If you haven't read it, you should. :)  
_

_This is a work of fanfiction and, as such, I make no money on it. Anything you recognize belongs to the lovely JK Rowling._

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Chapter Six

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Severus glanced down at me and saw the edges of my lips quiver as I tried to swallow my humor. "Oh, for God's sake, Hermione. I was a spy for twenty years in the camp of the Dark Lord. If I say we're being followed, can't you trust that my brains have _not_ gone soft?"

I felt my cheeks heat, and I smoothed the edge of my robe in embarrassment. I hadn't realized I was so transparent. "Of course. My apologies, Severus. Who do you think is following us?"

I watched him cock his head, the light catching the sharp planes of his cheeks and nose. "Whoever it is, they aren't very subtle. I sensed them immediately. But then, I always do." He stopped abruptly in front of a window display at Madam Malkin's. "Pretend to window shop while I catch a glimpse of the lobotomized monkey that the Ministry has tailing us." His clever crow eyes scanned the Christmas crowd reflected in the pane of glass.

"It's not that I don't believe you, Severus. If you say that someone is following us, I know with 100% certainty that someone is tailing you and me. However, how do you know that they aren't war groupies?" I smiled flirtatiously and murmured, "I know for a fact that you had a few ladies dying to have you stir their slowly simmering cauldron."

A look of utter revulsion crossed his face. "Yes, and Sybil led the mob. Naked." The Potions master shuddered, and his eyes turned brooding.

"Being constantly vigilant can be exhausting, and I'd hate to see you end up like Moody. Last I heard, he got sentenced to six months in Azkaban for attacking a Muggle clown. Said he was starting a dark army of balloon dogs and giraffes."

Our eyes met in the glass and Severus's eyebrows drew together ferociously. "_Professor_ Granger, I know for a fact that story is a complete fabrication. Alastor Moody retired and is happily living in Cotswold. He and Arabella Figg finally tied the knot. They have approximately ten thousand cats in a house the size of a postage stamp."

I was unembarrassed to be caught in the lie, and waved the truth away like a strange smell in the air. "Well, yes, but it was such a _good_ story. And a propos to your situation, as well." Under the sudden heaviness of his glare, I shifted uncomfortably and looked at the wares behind the glass. "Window shop, you say?"

When he went back to surveying the surrounding area, I began to look in earnest at the display. "Oh, how pretty!"

I'm not the sort of female who has ever been captivated by shopping for clothes. I'm reasonably attractive in a drab palette of brown and frizz, but were I to drape myself in brightly-colored fripperies, I'm well aware that I'd look ridiculous… rather like a sparrow with a peacock feather Spellotaped to its arse. This particular window display, however, filled my heart with girlish glee. Silks and satin and lace, oh my! Bustiers and corsets and garters, oh my!

"I'll be two shakes of a lamb's tail, Severus. I'm just going to…" I gestured vaguely at the store and wandered towards the entrance like a moth drawn to a light. "You know, nighties."

* * *

I was in and out in ten minutes, tops. There was no need for him to be that irritated, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his brows crouched like pouting caterpillars over his eyes. With a small trill of feminine satisfaction, I noticed that even as aggravated as he appeared, he couldn't keep from glancing repeatedly at the teeny weeny bag in my hand.

"So, did you discover who was watching us?" I asked him in an attempt at reconciliation.

His eyes flicked up and down the street, darting like a Seeker after the Snitch. "No." His voice was frustrated. "But I felt their eyes all over me, sticky and probing. Someone was watching me closely. That's not a feeling I'll ever forget. I thought for a moment I had them… but then they were just gone." Severus snorted and his mouth curled up. "I also saw your ex-paramour. Ronald Weasley strolled by, very ostentatiously _not_ looking at me. He's about as inconspicuous as a choir girl at an orgy."

"You _accidentally_ go to ONE orgy, and…" I broke off suddenly and blushed. I hadn't been paying terribly close attention as I had been thinking about the naughty things I intended to do with my purchase from Madame Malkins. "Oh, you weren't talking about… Never mind." Hiking the bag up higher on my arm, I tried to ignore the curious look on his face. Growing uncomfortable with the silence, I blurted, "I mean, nothing against orgies, if that's your thing. It's just not what I had expected. My date told me it was an in-depth look at Roman culture, and I had no idea that when he said in-depth he meant _my _depths, and_ Merlin_! I'm just starving! I could definitely go for a bite to eat. I don't think I can go another step without it."

"You seem flustered, my dear." He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and when he spoke, his voice had dropped an octave. "Hermione, there's no need to be embarrassed of your very naughty and titillating past. Believe me, I am more than happy to hear about it. But I must confess to being shocked by one thing…"

My eyes flicked to his, and oh gods, the look he was giving me made me feel warm down to my numb little toes. I made a small noise of inquiry that sounded embarrassingly kittenish.

Severus whispered, "You were a choir girl?"

I cleared my throat, my lashes lowered demurely. "It seemed the thing to do at the time."

He laughed.

_Oh my_. It was an honest, warm sound that dripped like honey down my spine. I felt it shiver across my skin and my eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. I don't think I'd ever heard him laugh before. Not like that, anyway.

"Shall we have dinner then, Hermione? We _did_ miss lunch, after all." He picked up my free hand and rubbed his thumb across my palm. His eyes were warm.

For someone who professed to be clueless when it comes to relationships, Severus was doing a remarkable job of turning me into a quivering pile of jelly. Aching, _female_ jelly. I considered gagging at the mental image my brain presented to me, but I was too busy being concerned that I was falling in love with the moody, unpredictable bastard.

I nodded. "Dinner sounds lovely."

* * *

To my amusement, he took me to a pub named "The Surly Bastard." Severus met my amused glance with a disdainfully raised eyebrow and gestured impatiently for me to precede him into the restaurant. We sat at a dark booth in the corner and picked up our menus. They were sticky to the touch. I did my best not to grimace.

"So, do you come here often?" I asked and then winced at the idiocy of the question.

"Indeed. I also like puppies and long walks on the beach. My favorite color is blue and I never, ever kiss on a first date." His thin, mobile lips curled up at the corner as he opened his menu and studied it. "Really, Hermione. What a question."

I felt stupid. I hate feeling stupid. Snapping the menu open in irritation, I growled, "It's the sort of question people ask when they are trying to get to know each other, Severus. My sum knowledge of you is this: you are a bastard, you like Potions, books, and tormenting first years, and you are a bastard."

"You said that I was a bastard twice."

"Well, it bore repeating, didn't it?" I peeked over the top of my menu to see how he was taking my vitriol. His eyes were crinkled at the corner, but I couldn't tell if he was squinting to read his supper options or if he was grinning behind the cover of the menu.

"I have been here a number of times. The food is decent, and I didn't feel up to going somewhere we might run into the Boy-Who-Chews-with-his-Mouth-Open." His voice was warm. Ah. Definitely smiling. "Before I started coming here, the restaurant was called 'The Prancing Unicorn.'"

I snorted and took a sip from my water. At his inquiring look, I said, "So, you just walked down the street, saw a placard with a dancing unicorn and thought, 'Oooh! I _must_ eat here'?"

His eyebrows snapped together. "I said it was a _prancing_ unicorn." Severus crossed his arms over his chest in mock severity. At least, I hoped it was mock. "And no, I came here because I know the owner from… _darker_ times."

As if on cue, a man approached. His hair and eyes were dark, but his skin was as pale as mold on a crust of bread. His nose was pointy and tipped up at the end, pulling his upper lip into a bow and revealing a swathe of unhealthy pink- and white-mottled gum. Small baked bean teeth nestled haphazardly in his weak jaw. He had the appearance of a dim-witted poodle (which is really something because poodles are generally quite sharp), something I had come to associate with the most over bred of the Pureblooded caste. In fact, he looked rather like a dark-haired version of…

"Malfoy!" Severus smiled with real warmth. I drew back in alarm, an action that was not missed by the degenerate approaching us.

"Now, I've asked you to call me Julius, haven't I? You've gone and scared your companion before she even got the chance to get to know me." He bowed deeply to me, his eyes flickering over my face and bust in gentle curiosity, before his gaze alighted on my nightie bag from Madam Malkin's. He smirked.

"This is Hermione Granger. Hermione, Julius Malfoy." Severus waved casually between us.

Julius took our order and excused himself, taking his distracting teeth with him. I'd never judge a person based on looks, but being the daughter of two dentists, I'm genetically unable to abide rotten teeth. Once he was gone, I turned to Severus with a questioning look. "Malfoy?"

"Don't make the mistake of lumping all Malfoy's together. Draco's not so bad."

"Draco still refuses to call me anything other than 'Mudblood' to this day."

"Well, Julius is nothing like the rest of the clan. He was Abraxis Malfoy's wrong-blanketed son – Lucius's half-brother. He's a good bloke. Hufflepuff, you know."

I crossed my ankles and rested my elbows on the edge of the table. (Gingerly. It was sticky as well.) "How did you meet each other?"

Julius's voice chirped, "We were Death Eaters together. Here's some water for the table. Are you ready to order?"

My voice was weak as I ordered the Beef Wellington. I turned to Malfoy. "Death Eaters. You don't say?"

* * *

"Don't judge him too harshly. Being a Death Eater was expected of him. Old Abraxis was as nasty as they come. Said even though Julius was a bastard, he was half Malfoy and goddamnit, that meant something. Of course, he couldn't be bothered to provide decent medical care for the boy, and God help Julius if he needed money for schooling, because Abraxis surely wasn't going to do anything about it. But bastard Malfoys are perfect cannon fodder for the Dark Lord." Severus shook his head and took a sip of his water.

"Why didn't he run?"

"Julius never took the whole thing seriously. He used to thumb his nose at dear old Dad every chance he got. He even took the name Malfoy just to get under his skin. Then Abraxis had his mother kidnapped. Julius was given a choice: take the Mark or his mother would die."

I leaned back against the pleather seat of the booth. "That's wretched! So, he took the Mark to save his mum." I pleated the paper napkin that had sat beneath my silverware.

"Yes, but it didn't matter. Once he was Marked, he couldn't get away. They killed his mother anyway to punish him for resisting." I studied Severus's face. His brow was smooth and his eyes dispassionate. I was beginning to realize that he wore that expression like a mask to hide his vulnerability. _How similar was his own story to Julius's? _ I wondered.

I slid my palm across the table and covered his hand, squeezing lightly. He glanced at me, and I saw surprise flash for just a moment before he ruthlessly tamped it down behind his eyes. "Anyway, we'd been… friendly during our Hogwarts years, and I did the best I could to keep him out of Voldemort's way. He never was more than a low-level Death Eater. On the fringe. Just a Muggle Baiter." He slid his free hand down his suddenly tired-looking face. "Anyway. That's all in the past, I suppose."

"Yes, well. The past rarely stays there, does it?" My thoughts turned dark, and I grimaced, thinking of my parents. I tried to remember only the happy times, but IT was always lurking like a dust mote in the corner of my vision. "If you don't mind, I'm just going to powder my nose."

He looked up at me, surprised. "Of course."

In the bathroom, I leaned over the sink and stared at my face in the mirror. I stared for a long time, watching my eyes solidify from wounded brown to their normal hazel once more. The fact my parents were murdered by Death Eaters at the end of the war was not a secret. However, I didn't want to get soggy on Severus on our first date. (I had decided our trip to collect hollyhocks didn't _really_ count. After all, he had to do that whether or not I accompanied him. It was just an added bonus that we ended up sucking face in the dark forest.)

I splashed water on my cheeks and then dragged the rough brown paper towels over my face to dry off. _Game face, game face_. I smiled and pushed open the ladies' bathroom door.

I'd been gone longer than I thought, and Severus was leaning over a pocket-sized book. He looked a little lost, as if he had done something wrong and was looking for the answer. Covering my mouth with my hand, I realized that he'd shrunk one of the books on wooing, and presumably, he'd had it in his pocket during our conversation.

When he saw me coming, he snapped the book shut and slipped it into his robe. I rested my hand on his shoulder and then slid in next to him on his side of the booth so that our legs touched, hip to thigh.

* * *

_A/N: So this chapter has a little bit of a more serious ending. No worries, lots more fluff to come. _

_Like it, love it, hate it, review it!  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Hello, children. I have returned. Many moons have passed since last I updated this fic. However, I am happy to report that we are back on track, and all systems are go. You can expect semi-regular updates - once every week or two from here on out. Eh, life's busy. What are you going to do?_

_Like all things Harry Potter related, I own nothing. Not one scrap of it. Not the tiniest hair from the interior of Snape's nose. If I DID have one of those, though... **Shivers in perverted delight** Hoo, boy. _

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Dating Severus Snape had its pros and cons. On the plus side, my skin had never looked better. The man knew how to whip up a nice facial cleanser. I think it's the rosehips he includes. Also, I never lacked for intelligent conversation, and Snape's kisses curled my toes. On the negative side, he was a moody bastard that believed in taking things slow. It had been four _months_, and I hadn't even seen his chest. The little nightie I bought on our excursion to Diagon Alley was still lying neglected in a drawer.

Moreover, it was likely to continue languishing in a sad scrap of silk for the foreseeable future. Severus was upset with me.

I'd received an invitation to Harry's and Ginny's fifth anniversary party, and it'd been addressed to Hermione Granger and guest. I bit my lip, knowing immediately _who _I wanted to invite, and yet I was equally aware that I would probably have to drug Severus with a sleeping potion in order to get him there. …And I'd like to point out that drugging a potions Master is considerably more difficult than drugging someone who is not.

I'd pulled the invitation out with trepidation and shown it to him. The bastard had just lazily cocked an eyebrow at me and drawled, "And?"

"I'd like it if you went with me," I said.

"Would you now?"

"I'm sure that Harry and Ginny would be more than happy to see you there." I kept my voice carefully level.

"Now if that was true, I'm sure I'd have gotten my own invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Potter." Severus practically spit the words.

"Oh, why won't you come, you stubborn buzzard?"

"I'm curious, Hermione. Under what possible conditions could you imagine me consenting to go," Severus looked at the invitation briefly before throwing it on the table in disgust, "to the _Burrow_ of all places, to celebrate the anniversary of two of the most obnoxious students I've ever taught?"

We'd been sitting on the couch in my living room reading together, something that had rapidly become one of my favorite dating activities with Severus. I'd never met anyone who enjoyed reading as much (or more) than I do. We'd spend an hour or two reading, and then, when I got bored, I was able to enjoy staring at his hawkish profile. I'll admit that his nose inspired truly dirty, perverted thoughts in me. Eventually, he'd glance over, catch my eye, and pull me into his lap for an enjoyable, toe-curling half an hour.

But not that night. No, like an idiot, I had to wave around the sodding invitation even though I _knew_ the likelihood that he'd go was only infinitesimally larger than a snowball's chance in hell. Still, he didn't have to be so rude about it.

"But it'd make me happy if you go, Severus," I pushed.

"But it'd make me _un_happy if I go, Hermione," he snipped.

"Everyone will see us there together, though. I know you'd take a great deal of pleasure in shoving it in Ron's face. It's the Burrow! He's bound to be there!" I knew I was really reaching. "Just think about how jealous and annoyed he'll be."

Until that point, he hadn't bother looking up from the most recent issue of _Ars Alchemica_. Mentioning Ronald caused him to drop the paper into his lap with an irritated huff, the pages crinkling ominously. Normally, Severus is very careful of his journals. "Do you really think that I'd be that petty? To show up at your friends' party for the express purpose of making them uncomfortable?"

I cocked my head, unsure of how to answer that… because, um, yes.

"Merlin, Hermione. I'm a git, but I try not to trespass when I don't _have_ to." At my gimlet-eyed stare, he shrugged. "Don't blame me that you don't know me as well as you _think_ you do. If your ex-paramour comes up and makes a scene in the street, I'll happily make him look like a twat! However, I'm not about to go to Harry-Bloody-Potter's anniversary party to cause a scene."

Maybe he was right, and I didn't know him as well as I thought. The man had been a mystery to me for years, and I was only just now getting to see who he was beneath the snarky, gitty exterior. I opened my mouth to acknowledge his point, but instead I managed to spill the following tripe: "I object to the use of the word twat. My vagina is very attractive, and I don't appreciate you likening it to Ronald."

He leaned forward, his nose practically touching mine, and hissed, "If you had a valid need, I would attend the party. However, you seem far more interested in trotting me about like a show pony! Will I be obliged to learn a new trick or two so that I may perform them for all of my former students?"

My mouth clicked shut so fast I bit my tongue. "That's… that's _patently_ unfair, and you know it." As I spoke, the liquid copper of my blood flooded my tastebuds. My nostrils flared. "I'm sorry that you are unable to differentiate between my wanting to attend a party with you and a desire to turn you into a circus sideshow. You are blind, so blind, Severus Snape."

"I knew, I _knew _this would never work. It would have been better to end this travesty of a dalliance before we started becoming entangled." Severus threw his journal on the table in disgust and stalked out the door.

I slumped back onto my hideous floral couch (undoubtedly chosen by Minerva before I accepted the post) and contemplated my failure to communicate with my… I hastily wracked my brain for the appropriate word… with my Snape. What had just happened? I felt like I'd been given a crash course in how to break up in twenty words or less.

Should I cry or should I laugh? Was he _serious_? Did he actually think we were done? Did I owe him an apology for pushing so hard, or did he start it by being surly right off the bat? It's true that I tried to wheedle and cajole him into doing what I wanted. I'd have done the same to Ginny. If anything, that spoke to how comfortable I was in his presence.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I hoped we weren't through. While it's true that we hadn't been dating for long at all, I'd grown genuinely fond of the man. And his luscious bum.

My door banged open, and my heart jumped to see Severus coming back. I offered him a tentative smile, but he saw it and raised me a scowl, pausing just long enough to scoop up his copy of _Ars Alchemica_. This time when he slammed the door, my painting of the troll Glyfborn the Handsome fell, the frame cracking when it hit the floor.

* * *

He ignored me for the next three days.

I _hated_ it. I tried to approach him during the time he was normally grading in his office, but his door was locked and warded. He didn't show up for our normal reading time (8 PM – the perfect moment to eat chocolate biscuits), and I couldn't even corner him in the library when I i_knew/i_ the most recent edition of the _Potioneers Quarterly_ was on hold for him.

The man knew how to be elusive.

After repeated efforts, I surmised that I had no choice left but to risk airing our dirty laundry in the Great Hall. I sat next to him at breakfast and calmly buttered my toast. There were other seats, but I knew that he would feel it beneath his dignity to move or even acknowledge that I was next to him.

I took a sip of my tea and swallowed nervously. "I want to talk to you, Severus."

"It's nice to want things."

"Not according to the Buddha," I returned piously.

"I'm quite certain that we have nothing to discuss, Ms. Granger." His voice was cool, disinterested even.

I put my hand on his leg. "It's Professor, and I'm sure that isn't the case."

"Cease and desist manhandling me, woman."

"Let me just say this, and I'll remove my hand." I snuffled unattractively. "I asked you to come to the party because I liked where our relationship was going. If you hadn't have come, I wouldn't have been cross with you. I'm sorry that I pushed too hard and made you feel as if I thought you were someone who took pleasure in being a git. However, you're not blameless either, and you shouldn't have left the way you did." My lower lip was quivering and I was doing everything in my power to hold back the tears.

When I looked up at him, I saw that he had turned to face me. His eyes widened, and he began to look panicked when I made a snorking noise and rubbed my nose on my sleeve.

"What exactly are you saying, Hermione?" The glacial chill was gone from his voice, leaving him to sound unsure and tired.

"I'm saying that I'd like to sit down and talk about this so we can move forward."

Severus scowled. "Move forward? You made it quite clear that you found me to be intractable and not worth the effort. You called me blind and a buzzard."

I folded my napkin in my lap in half, then in thirds. I twisted it around my thumb and started ripping it into tiny bits as I considered just what I wanted to say to assuage his fears. Like a puzzle piece falling into place, I suddenly understood that it was fear more than anything else that was his motivation.

As a spy, Severus's life must have depended on him having an accurate understanding of the lay of the land. Over the years, he'd developed a nuanced and instinctive grasp of who he needed to be, both as a Death Eater and as a member of the Order, so that he could do his job. It must be terrifying to him to be in such uncharted territory. Although the stakes were less… fatal, Severus was not a man who liked either surprises or new situations.

"We were having a disagreement. It's a completely normal turn of events. Your refusal to attend Harry's party with me was not my cue to rub ashes in my hair and join a convent." I cocked my head in thought. "Although with the amount of action I'm getting, the only difference between Hogwarts and a convent is ugly head coverings."

I watched Minerva walk by with a taxidermied pheasant clutching the woolen fabric of her pointed hat in its dead claws.

"No, scratch that bit about the head coverings," I mused as the monstrosity bobbed along the Great hall. "No difference."

"Hermione," his voice was tentative and vaguely confused, "let's focus for a moment. Forget the hat. Are you… do you wish to continue seeing me?"

I felt the faintest dawnings of hope stir in my chest, and I turned to look him in the face. His lips were tight, but his eyes were nearly soft. "Silly man. Of course I do."

I watched him take a deep breath, the food on his plate barely touched. As he thought, he tapped his finger impatiently on the table. He stood then, and I felt my heart sink into my churning stomach as he gathered his mail and turned on his heel. Before he took even a step away from me, he stopped and said, "I shall have to… think on this." And then he was gone.

Whilst moping and stirring my tea, I noticed a slip of paper that had fallen from his stack of owl post. I retrieved it, and glancing at it, immediately discerned that it was a solicitation from the Daily Prophet. Knowing that he surely had been about to throw it out, my conscience didn't bother me when I decided to read through it.

_Dear Prof. Snape,_

_It has come to our attention that little is known about the work you did as a spy amongst the inner ranks of the Death Eaters. It is an accepted truth that the role you played in defeating He-Who-Can-Now-Be-Named was pivotal. However, the details are lacking, and the public has a right to know._

_We at the Daily Prophet would like to offer you 5,000 Galleons for your story. Moreover, we'd like to point out that we have very tastefully and successfully covered exposés from the following key players in the war against Lord Voldemort:_

_Lavender Brown  
Draco Malfoy  
Pansy Parkinson  
Ronald Weasley  
Millicent Bullstrode_

_Please consider allowing the Daily Prophet to enlighten the public as to the true face of Severus Snape. This would be most easily accomplished with your full cooperation. However, we are willing to proceed without your direct involvement. Several of your former students have volunteered to be interviewed about their experiences both in the classroom and on the battlefield._

_Most Sincere Regards,_

_Rita Skeeter_

I rolled my eyes at the beetle's rather blatant threat and Incendioed the parchment. Snape certainly wouldn't consider something so tacky.

* * *

The day of Harry's and Ginny's party neared, and Severus and I still hadn't ironed things out. However, I caught him reading _Being a Lover: An Emotional Tapestry_ in the library, and that kept the small hopeful flame that burned in my chest from guttering.

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_A/N: Like it, Love it, Hate it, Review it!_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Woot!_

_Despite my shocking physical similarities to JK Rowling, I am not her. Honestly! As such, I don't own any part of the Harry Potter world._

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My tongue between my teeth, I assessed my appearance in the mirror with a critical eye. The fabric of my dress was a glorious champagne color that made my skin glow, and the style was structured without being fussy. It was a knee-length party frock that was covered in gentle folds and came to my knees. A wide sash in a dark gold satin wrapped my waist and complemented the four-inch wide trim in the same material at the hemline. It _flowed_. When I moved, it _breathed._

I _loved_ it. I felt as pretty as I did at the Yule Ball in fourth year when Lavender and Parvati shoehorned me into that purple blancmange and taught me the charms to tame my coiffure. Coincidentally, they are the only charms that I've failed to master. My hair refused to be intimidated by my intellect. Needless to say, it was _not _a coincidence that the day of Harry's and Ginny's party my hair was tumbling down my back, completely unrestrained except for half of a bottle of Sleekeasy to bring the frizz under control.

Although I'd never been interested in exploring the 'girlish arts,' I took pride that, should the occasion call for it, I could look respectable… nearly pretty. Even if I was going stag. By myself. My lonesome.

Ginny told me Ron was bringing some slag.

_I should probably brush my teeth one last time._

Spreading toothpaste on my toothbrush, I imagined showing up to the party with a Severus-shaped void at my side. Ron would look up from where he was noozling his groupie's breasticles and smirk. _I will have to kill him then, and Harry and Ginny will stop inviting me to their parties. _I fumed, scrubbing my teeth without mercy.

"Your gums are bleeding," my image murmured, not meeting my eyes. It timidly offered the observation, having learned through experience that I dislike commentary on my appearance. When it comes to enchanted objects, I hex first and ask questions never.

"Balls!" I said, leaning forward to take in my pink teeth in the mirror.

Heartened by my apparent lack of rage, the mirror cheerfully added, "I doubt anyone will want to put their balls _near_ a mouth that's covered in blood. It'd show a disturbing lack of caution, wouldn't it?"

My wand tapped the glass.

"Balls!" my image said, peering down at itself. "You've turned me into Rufus Scrimgeour." Opening the fly to its pants, it exclaimed, "And my willy's a pickle!"

"A gherkin, actually," I cackled.

Crossing its arms over its chest, it huffed, "I hope you know you're only punishing yourself. After all, _you're_ the one who's going to have to stare at an aged, pickle-willied ex-Minister of Magic, not me." Its smile was vindictive.

"Good point." I tapped the glass once more. "There. Now you're punished, and I'll enjoy looking at you."

"This is undignified!" The eyes of the now dark-haired mirror-image bulged. "Not to mention anatomically improbable!"

I stared at the nether-regions of the Snape doppelganger. "You think so? I've cupped him a time or two, and he felt quite large."

"At least make the angle less… jaunty. He's not a stripling anymore, you know." Its shoulders hunched.

"Nope," I said, popping the p. I generously allowed myself to ogle for another thirty seconds before I turned on my heel and grabbed the clutch that was resting on the sink. "I'm off then. I'll see _you_ when I get back," I purred and waggled my brows.

The Snape-image shuddered and covered its private bits. "I feel so dirty."

Smirking, I left.

* * *

The Burrow looked much as I remembered it… ramshackle, disorderly, and perfectly lovely. The slanting gables, cross-paned glass, and cheerful colors always reminded me of a Muggle nursery rhyme. I wouldn't have been surprised if one of Molly's pies had burst open, giving birth to four and twenty blackbirds, or if one of the twins had offered to spin straw into gold for me in return for my firstborn. The Burrow typified the best part of the magical world – warm and wondrous.

The garden with its polite tea and cabbage roses was a place that had a lot of resonance for me. That's where Kingsley Shacklebolt had told me about Mum and Dad. I'd spent hours de-gnoming the damned thing, watching the little buggers sail in graceful arcs over the meadow. And, after the Victory celebration, I'd lost my virginity amongst those roses. Harry and Ginny had chosen to host their party there, and I was glad.

I hadn't been back since Ronald had humped his way out of our relationship, and frankly, I'd missed it. The Weasley homestead felt like home far more than my parents' empty house in Muggle London. After their deaths, I'd spent every holiday from Hogwarts with the Weasleys. Ginny and I shared a bed so that Arthur and Molly could sleep secure in the thought that no S-E-X was going on under their thatched roof. …I wonder what they'd do if they knew that before she married Harry, Ginny had happily played on both sides of the Quidditch pitch.

As I walked up the path, I could hear the sound of laughter coming from the garden. I rounded the corner and paused for a moment to gird my loins before plunging into the fray.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted. As one, every head at the party turned to stare at me. I'd never felt the lack of Severus's presence more keenly.

"There she is!"

"Come over here and give us a kiss!"

"Oh my god, it's been _ages_!"

"Lav-Lav, run get me some more cheesy artichoke puffs, will you?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course Ron's priority was the food. And he was here with Lavender Brown? Ew.

"Happy anniversary, you two!" I stretched my arms wide and hugged my best friends. "You both look fabulous," I said, lying through my teeth. Ginny's belly protruded like a woman twelve months pregnant instead of seven, and Harry had been sympathy eating. He was quite puffy, and the line of his neck went straight from his chin to his sternum like a pelican's.

"You're such a lying cow," she giggled.

"How are you feeling?" I patted her belly gingerly, fearing that if I put too much pressure on it, it would squash like an overripe peach. "Twins in there treating you right?"

"Damn Weasley genes. We're practically goats the way we seem to throw multiples." Ginny grimaced and rubbed her belly. "I'll admit that I'll be glad when this pregnancy is over. It's so much harder than a single. And I have to pee! Constantly!"

"Well," I smiled, holding up a finger, "I hope that my anniversary pressie will help." I took a decent-sized potions bottle out of my purse and held it out to her. It glowed a pearlescent blue in the setting sun.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It's called Mother's Milk, and it ensures you carry twins to term. It's also got all sorts of good side effects. It helps you sleep at night by bringing the babies' circadian rhythms in line with yours; it reduces swelling in the extremities; and best of all, your hair will absolutely shine while you take it."

Ginny burst into tears and hugged me. "I'd kiss you if it wouldn't make Harry jealous. What a wonderful, thoughtful gift."

I patted her on the back, eyeing Harry in alarm.

"Hormones," he mouthed.

"Anything for you, Gin. Dosing directions are on the bottle."

The red-head pulled back, hiccoughing and clutching the vial to her like I was trying to steal it back. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just so emotional right now, and… Ronald Weasley, get your face out of the tray of canapés this instant. They are for _guests_." She handed the bottle to Harry and stomped over to her brother where he was busily hoovering the hors d'oeuvres into his mouth.

"How are you holding up, Harry?" I said to my oldest friend.

"Hermione, Ginny can be a mite scary when she's this pregnant, but I have to tell you – I never thought I'd be this happy." He turned to look at me, his face glowing. When he scratched his brow absently, I saw a silvered, lightning bolt scar. "I have a family. We have a home together. I get to sleep next to my witch every night, and Hermione… she wants sex all the time." His eyes were wide.

"Oh my god, Harry Potter!" I yelled, gagging. "Keep such details to yourself!"

He smirked like the boy I remembered, and all of a sudden, I couldn't see his softened neck and jaw line or the small smile lines that had begun to stretch from the tips of his eyes. He was just my friend, and I cuffed him on the arm. "Git," I mumbled.

"So, are you going to talk to Ron? You're going to have to before the party's over."

"Yes, I will. However, I'm waiting until the last possible moment so that he doesn't ruin the party for me. You know, I'd be perfectly happy if I didn't have to say hello at all…"

"'MIONE!" the red-headed prat yelled, giving me a sloppy buss on the cheek. "Where've you been, gorgeous?"

"Won-Won!" Lavender shrieked and clung to him like a barnacle. The ginger menace had the grace to grimace. Harry slunk away, leaving me to their dubious mercies.

"I've been standing right here for the last thirty minutes, idiot," I hissed.

His shirt was mis-buttoned and his hair was disheveled. His lips hung slack and a bit moist, and I experienced a brief shiver of revulsion to think that I had ever let him kiss me with that mouth. Sniffing in disdain, I suddenly caught the scent of firewhisky. "For God's sake, Ron. Did you actually have the temerity to get drunk at a five year anniversary party? Tacky."

He flushed and shrugged. "It's not like anyone here expected any different."

I stared at him until he shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with the silence. And my antagonism. I had promised Harry and Ginny that I'd be civil, but I wasn't going to make anything easy for him. Prat never sent me that apology owl.

"Was that my cue to pity you? You aren't a monkey. Believe it or not, Ron Weasley, you are what you make of yourself."

He swayed forward drunkenly and sniped, "We can't all be bloody geniuses, Hermione. Some of us have to sell Quidditch supplies for a living." Ron gestured with a crab doodle.

I smiled. It wasn't a particularly nice smile. "I wasn't aware that handling sweating jocks' bits prevented you from being a decent human being."

He blinked and raised a finger to poke me in the shoulder. Lavender interpolated herself between us. "Now, now dear. Let's calm down." Turning to face me, she said, "He gets a little feisty when he's had a bit to drink."

Didn't I know it.

When he had relaxed sufficiently that Lavender was no longer concerned he'd pick a fight, she turned back to me, her face wreathed in a saccharine smile. I nearly fell back a step, shades of a pink-suited, throat-clearing toad dancing before my eyes. "So, Her_mi_one." Lavender drew the second syllable of my name out as if she was planning on sharing a confidence. "Where is your date? Surely you didn't come all by yourself," she simpered. "Not _again_."

Oh, that bitch. I opened my mouth to lie through my teeth, but before I could spill my quickly concocted story involving my boyfriend and a tragic hippogriff accident, a silken voice answered her.

"Why, Ms. Brown. I'm right here, of course." Severus swept up to me and slid an arm around my waist. "Sorry I'm late, darling." He kissed my cheek.

I stared at him, my brain stuttering like a record on a scratched groove. He was here, and he looked _amazing. _Black wool trousers cupped his bum like temptation on a priest. My eyes lingered there a shade too long before they swept up the rest of his body. A red (_red!_) button-down shirt covered his chest, and his hair was pulled neatly into a queue.

Severus looked far too pleased with himself. His eyes sparkled. They fucking sparkled! "You look enticing, Hermione," he growled and pulled me up against his side in a possessive display.

"Muh," I said extravagantly.

"I should probably offer my felicitations to the happy couple. Will you come?" He smiled, his crooked teeth flashing.

"Yargh."

"If you'll excuse us," he said to Ronald and Lavender. Turning to take my arm, Severus suddenly stopped and said in sniffy voice, "And Ron, you've got crab doodle on your nose, by the way. Did you know?"

We turned away before I could burst out laughing, pleased that Severus had remembered my recounting of the first time I'd met Harry and Ron on the train. "I'm so glad you're here," I whispered.

"Silly girl, how could I not come?" His voice was soft. Smirking, but with real affection shining in his eyes, he added, "Best not to answer that."

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_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it!_

_If you want to know what Hermione's dress looks, you can see it here:_

http : // tig - fashion . blogspot . com / 2008 / 12 / inspiration - chanel . html

_Take out the spaces. If it doesn't all come through, PM me your email addy, and I'll send you a pic._


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling. I am not her. She lives in Buckingham Palace, one wing down from the Queen. I live one apartment down from the woman that played Tootie on the "Facts of Life."_

_Thanks so much to WriterMerrin for the post-post Beta!_

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"Congratulations on not yet having divorced," Severus sniped. He shoved a neatly wrapped package into Harry's hand. I was impressed. Any present Ron had given me always looked as if he'd used his feet to wrap it.

"Err… Thanks, Professor." Harry's gaze was befuddled, and he glanced back and forth between the two of us with growing confusion.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and glowered. "Well, open it."

Harry continued to stare. With an irritated huff, Ginny took the present out of his hands. "We are so glad you could make it, Professor Snape. Please don't mind my husband." She leaned forward and tapped her temple, whispering, "One too many hexes to the head by old Voldy."

Only I could see it, but Severus's face warmed, and he wanted to smile.

"Please don't give it a second thought, Mrs. Potter. An intellect such as his can only decay over time. Frankly, I'm amazed you don't have him propped upright in a corner drooling."

"Oh, you've ruined the surprise. That's his after-dinner trick." As Ginny spoke, her hands worked at the present. The wrapping fell off, and she stilled. "Oh, Professor, this is…" Tears muffled her voice. "This is a wonderful gift."

I gaped when I saw a clock in her hands. It gleamed a soft bronze and mother-of-pearl in the evening light, and the face had three arms labeled Harry, Ginevra, and Albus Severus. In the center of the dial where the three hands were joined, there were two smaller buds growing.

"It's self-correcting. As you have children and then your children have children, the clock will adjust, adding a hand for each." He paused and raised a sardonic brow. "However, since you are a Weasley, I made a slight modification. Due to the fact the women in your family have entire litters of children, the dial will most likely become too crowded to read effectively. This node here," he pointed to a small white circle that I had taken initially for decoration, "will grow into another dial to accommodate the grandchildren."

Ginny made a strangled noise and sucked in a lungful of air. _Oh no! _I watched in alarm as she burst into full-fledged sobs and threw herself into my Snape's arms. She buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his trim waist. Her stomach was a full moon that pressed between them, and displeased, she turned her torso sideways so she could really snuggle into him. Severus turned appalled eyes to me, his arms straight out as if he was being crucified.

"_Help me_," he mouthed.

"There, there, Gin. I know. He's a very nice man under all the snark and wool. Come give us a hug now." I pried her arms from around his waist and transferred them to mine. She nuzzled her face into my bosom with alacrity. Severus watched with interest. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Ginny, darling, how about we sit on that bench over there and I rub your feet? You've been such a trooper, I think you deserve a little rest, love."

My friend raised her face from my cleavage to look at her husband. "Really, Harry? I'd appreciate that if you mean it."

"Of course, lovebird. Come with me," he crooned. When Ginny transferred her arms once more so that she was cuddled up against Harry, he smiled at Snape. "Thanks, Professor. That was an immensely thoughtful present." My puffy friend dandled his wife a bit closer, his eyes lowering in contentment. "So. Who are you here with?"

Severus gritted his teeth and held up his right hand to show it clasping my left.

Harry laughed. "Does her boyfriend know that you're trying to steal his girl?" He punched Severus in the shoulder as if they were two boys sharing an inside joke.

Ginny's head thunked against her hand. "Honestly, Harry. You only hear what you want to hear. I told you they were dating three months ago."

"What?" His voice was startled. "I didn't think you meant _each other_."

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger and I have embarked upon a _physical _relationship." Severus cupped a hand around the back of my neck and drew me close. I knew what he was doing. Feeling out of place, he was both establishing a claim on me and punishing Harry for his idiocy by making him feel uncomfortable. With a mental shrug, I let him plaster me to his side and slipped my arms around his chest. The man had come to a party full of former students… Gryffindor students. He deserved it.

"Oh, Severus," I cooed, rubbing my hand against his pectoral.

He looked down at me, a smile playing around the edges of his mouth.

"Well, good to see you both," Harry said, looking a bit green. The smile he gave us was genuine, however. "I've promised Gin a foot rub, and I try to keep my promises." He cocked his head thoughtfully and added, "I especially don't like to disappoint very pregnant witches who know where I sleep."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Come on, you charmer, you." They left to sit on one of Molly's stone garden benches.

We stood together in awkward silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

"I'm sorry, too," I said.

We stared at each other. His eyes were dark and intent.

"You are going to get so lucky for this," I finally blurted.

"I'd better," he replied with a smirk.

* * *

Molly had pulled out all the stops for this party. It was lovely. Tea lights hovered over the garden, casting a warm light even as the sky darkened towards twilight. The buffet table was covered in her finest lace and linen cloths and festooned with round glass balls the size of Ginny's massive stomach lit from the interior by fireflies. Food of every variety ran the length of it. She'd outdone herself. Every now and again, I'd catch a glimpse of her marshalling spare Weasleys to pour wine or serve appetizers. I was especially pleased to see Ron stomping around with a tray of crab doodles on his shoulder, shoving them at guests in bad grace.

_God, what a perfect evening._

We meandered through the other party guests, stopping to converse only when we saw Luna and Neville.

"Hello, Hermione. Hello, Professor Snape," she said mistily, her head resting on Neville's shoulder. "How lovely to see you both."

"Ms. Lovegood," he nodded politely. "_Longbottom_," he sneered.

Neville blanched, and I couldn't help but notice his knees started to tremble.

"Professor, I must ask you not to intimidate my boyfriend. It's not good form, really." Luna's bright blue eyes blinked slowly. "Plus, you and I both know that you rather like him since he beheaded Nagini."

Severus scowled and opened his mouth.

"Neville," I interjected. "I didn't know you and Luna were seeing each other. That's lovely!"

His smile was shy, and he reached out to clasp the blonde's hand. "I met her at an academic conference. She was giving a presentation on the effect of nargles on venomous tentacula." He gave her an adoring look.

"Interestingly enough, there's no proof that nargles have any effect on them." Her fingers played with a lock of her blonde hair.

I blinked, confused. "Then what did you talk about during your presentation?"

Luna pursed her lips reprovingly at my failure to listen. "As Neville said, my presentation was on the effect of nargles on venomous tentacula."

"But then, how long was your talk?" I asked.

"Three hours."

"Best three hours of my life!" Neville sighed.

I decided to drop the subject. I absolutely adored Luna, but she and I had such different patterns of thought that after an hour, I've always got a raging headache and a strange desire to subscribe to the Quibbler.

"Speaking of nargles…" Luna reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of odd-looking glasses, sliding them onto her nose. I was briefly reminded of Muggle 3-D glasses from the 1950's, but the frames were purple plastic and had finger-like protrusions extending from both sides. She glanced around briefly, her lip curling slightly when she saw me, before focusing on Severus. "How interesting. Professor, are you aware that you have absolutely no nargles on you? That's quite rare."

Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out four bottle caps strung together on a piece of twine. He shook it once and then put it away.

"How marvelous! I'm glad to see that charm I gave you in seventh year is still going strong." She glowed.

"Your Charms work has always been above average, Ms. Lovegood. This has been most helpful to me through the years."

I blinked at his warm tone. I'd never heard him use that tone with anyone before me, and I'd had to shove my tongue down his throat before he'd begun to speak to me that way. Looking at him, I saw that he was giving Luna his near-smile, and my friend was beaming back at him.

She cocked her head with those idiotic glasses perched on her face and murmured, "Should I make one for Hermione? I'm not sure your Charm will be able to stave off cross-person infestation of that magnitude."

"Thank you, Ms. Lovegood. We'd accept it gladly." Severus smiled again, a dimple flashing briefly.

As the silence stretched between us, I realized that I was jealous. Very. I had gotten used to being the only person at whom he didn't routinely snarl, so to watch this interaction felt intimate and uncomfortable. Also, I wanted to pull Luna's stupid corn-colored hair. Stupid, stupid hair. To prevent an incident, I grabbed Severus's hand and turned to Luna and Neville. "It was nice talking to you! I see Seamus and Dean over there. We should really say hello."

As we walked away, he leaned down and whispered in my ear, "You're a very jealous witch." His smugness annoyed me tremendously.

"Jealous? Piffle."

He laughed, a low rumble in his chest. With my hand in his, he diverted our course away from the two Gryffindor men towards a less populated part of the garden. Severus stopped next to a riot of roses that Molly had encouraged to bloom early for the anniversary party. Taking both of my hands in his, he placed them flat on his chest.

"There's no need to be."

"I'm _not_." Even to my own ears, my voice sounded sullen. I cleared my throat and urged my throat to ease. "I know," I tried again, and this time it pleased me to hear the timbre of my voice sound normal.

A real smile curled his mouth as he looked at me, and I finally relaxed because it made the half-smile he gave to Luna look miserly in comparison. It was a beautiful, tempting curve, his lower lip fuller than his upper lip. I was suddenly taken by the need to touch it, to make sure it wasn't some sort of fevered imagining of my Severus-starved brain. Unable to help myself, I reached out to stroke it with the pad of my thumb. His tongue flicked out against it, and my eyes fell shut. I couldn't help but remember our first kiss in the forest collecting hollyhocks.

"Severus," I breathed.

"Hermione," he teased.

"Severus, I really missed you."

His face stilled and then became intense as he bent to brush his lips against my mouth. It burned me with its _rightness_, and I felt my eyes prickle with tears. "Missed you," I murmured before running my tongue along the seam of his mouth. He groaned and nipped me.

We wrapped our arms around each other and held on tightly, cheeks pressed together and eyes squeezed shut. I felt an ache in my heart begin to ease. Severus spoke against my neck, his hot breath stirring the baby fine hairs. "Hermione, this last week has been unpleasant. I find that… I do not wish to be parted from you any longer."

Taking a shaky breath, I said, "I think I can manage that."

I barely noticed the flash of a camera bulb before he Apparated us to the gates of Hogwarts.

* * *

_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it. For those of you who are sending me PMs - yes, smut soon. Next chapter, I believe. Also, I wanna thank those of you who have bothered to leave me a review either anonymously or they've disabled PMs from FFN (for example: MizSphinx). I can't reply to your reviews, but you all are super sweet, and it makes my day to know that people out there are finding this silly little story amusing._


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Oh my children! **Coughs delicately** I know it's hard to believe, but I had teh consumptions. Also, scabies, and uh... scurvy. And fallen arches._

_That's why I absolutely was unable to update this story. Every word I'm saying now is 127.2 percent true._

_However, you may all thank the fabulous and talented **Aurette** for reviving me with kind words and flattery. If you haven't read her amazing, breathtaking **Princess of Gryffindor**, I pity you for your wrong-headed and lamentable failings._

_Heal thyself by copying and pasting this link, and then removing the spaces, etc., etc.: _http : / / www dot fanfiction dot net / s / 5490903 / 1 / The_Princess_of_Gryffindor

**_WARNING: This is the long-awaited smut chapter! I was going to say that only the middle section is truly unsafe for those who don't like smut, but in reality the first and third bits are risque as well. So, if in doubt, skip!  
_**

_I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. I make no money on this whatsoever. This is pure, undiluted pleasure for me... Including the fact that I enjoy envisioning both JK Rowling and the executives at Time Warner naked, so BONUS. _

_

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_

**Chapter Ten**

Oh yes. Severus was a quivering blancmange of need; a steaming mass of manly goo into which I wanted to dive.

I cocked my head, rethinking that metaphor, because ew.

He was a mountain of yearning man muscle just waiting for me to scale him, conquer him, and plant my little Gryffindor flag over his summit.

_Ah, yes._ _That's_ the ticket.

So, if he wanted me so badly, why was my personal Mt. Everest sitting over _there_ on my hideous couch hiding his erection with a cushion and not sprawled nekkid in my bed? And why had he put on his frock coat over that sexy red shirt like he was donning armor?

I licked my lips in invitation.

He cleared his throat and said, "Your beauty illuminates my darkest night."

I leaned away, alarmed.

He tried again. "Your face shines, the lighthouse that guides my ship to shore."

"What are you doing?" My voice cracked, and I sat heavily next to him. Biting my lip, I tried to rummage sexily beneath the cushion, but he smacked my hand away.

Severus scowled, clutching the pillow in a white-knuckled grasp. Sucking air in through his teeth, he hissed, "Your dulcet tones could charm the birds from the air and…" he floundered, "And… small mammals from surrounding shrubbery." He looked at me expectantly.

I thought about that for a moment. "Well, yes. I am a Charms Mistress, and I do know that spell." Perhaps my Snape was nervous and wanted to diffuse the tension a bit with chit chat before getting down to business. Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I searched for a suitable response. "And your voice makes children cry. Many children. Many tears."

We stared at each other. Surely that's got to be enough gabbing.

I grasped my skirt and slid the hem up my thighs a good five inches. _Good boy. Look at my pretty legs. All for Severus._ I rubbed them together, thinking how good it would feel to have his face buried between them. Oh, yes. While holding his gaze, I pictured him with his shoulders wedging my thighs far apart, his tongue stroking my clit in broad, firm licks like a cat. Severus would pull back just long enough to spank me sharply on my cunt before diving back in, tongue dancing… fingers plunging…

He lunged off the couch, still holding that stupid pillow in front of my primary region of interest.

"I'm sorry. Was the spanking too much?"

"No, no. It was really very effective, Hermione." Severus ran a hand down his face. "_You are a strong and beautiful witch that any wizard would be proud to have at his side_," he accused.

I followed him, clapping my hands in delight. "Wonderful. Can we both be naked when I'm at your side? Also, can we be sweaty and horizontal?" I ran my hands down his chest, but paused when I felt something in his breast pocket that crinkled under my fingers. "What's this?" I began to unbutton his robe.

"Hermione, don't…" Torn between holding the pillow that hid what I fantasized to be his impressive erection and stopping my exploration inside his robes, Severus hesitated for just a moment too long. I pulled out a piece of parchment folded several times and a diminutive, dog-eared copy of _Wooing: The Ins and Outs of Courting_.

He stilled, and I could feel him watching me with trepidation.

"Oh," I whispered and unfolded the parchment. On it, he'd written, "Your beauty illuminates my darkest night," and "Your face shines, the lighthouse that guides my ship to shore." Ship had originally said boat, but he'd crossed it out with a note to himself that ship implied a much larger vessel. In parentheses, he'd added (innuendo.)

"_Oh_," I repeated. This one curled in my throat like a contented cat, and I ran my fingertip over the words he'd written.

I refolded the paper and tucked it into my bra. It was the first love letter that I'd ever received, and it had come from Severus. He was never getting it back. I turned my attention to the well-worn little book. Returning it to its original size, I opened it at random.

"Hermione, don't think too poorly of me. I told you that I don't have any exp…" Without looking up from the treasure in my hand, I pressed my fingers to his mouth. He kissed them, and the edges of my lips curled.

_To woo a witch, one must shower her with compliments. Pick a feature you find especially attractive (whilst remaining respectful) and expound upon it. Be sincere!_

Severus had scrawled, "_Respectful. Do not mention luscious arse or perky tits._"

My eyes darted to his face. He looked mortified. "No, don't look embarrassed. You also have a luscious arse. I think about it all the time. It looked especially fine tonight in those trousers that, you know…" I made a cupping gesture with my free hand. His eyes followed my gesture with interest, although his lips were still pursed.

I flipped to a new page.

_What are your witch's hobbies or interest? Engage her in a discussion about them so that she can see you have things in common. Beware! If you do not share many interests with your witch, you would be better off turning your sights towards another female that is more compatible._

His notes said, "_Interested in academia, mocking RW, dark chocolate, and snogging. Also, making fun of MM's unfortunate taste in millinery. V. compatible despite H's (possibly perverse?) interest in house elves._"

Snape cleared his throat. "I was just kidding about the elves, of course."

I glared and flipped to a new page.

And suddenly, I knew why he was trying to escape my evil, sexual thrall when it was so clear that he wanted to be shackled to my bed and ridden like a naughty pony. (With whips and spurs!)

_It would be supremely disrespectful to your witch to attempt to engage her in carnal relations prior to a formal binding. Leave the marriage bed for marriage, and your witch will feel cherished and special._

Unsurprisingly, Severus had scrawled, "_Merlin's bloody flux,_" in a shaking hand.

"OH." It all made sense now in a sweet, sexually-depriving sort of way. "I'm important to you. _We're_ important to you."

He'd been staring fiercely at Glyfborn the Handsome (who was pretending that he wasn't listening), a blush staining his cheeks, but at my words his eyes snapped back to mine. "Of c--. Hermione, of _course_. Do you think I would have shown up at Potter's anniversary party for anyone? I let a morbidly pregnant woman _hug _me, for gods' sake. For you."

His words washed over me, soothing a heart which had been sore from our fight and tattered from Ron's repeated infidelity. I stepped towards him and rested my cheek on his chest. Severus dropped the damned cushion and snaked his arms around me, cuddling me close.

"That is so sweet," I muttered against his pectoral, not caring if my lipstick rubbed off on his frock coat. He rested his head on mine, and I felt a thrum of contentment emerge from his throat.

"You are delusional. I'm never sweet," he huffed, sounding not-at-all-displeased.

"No. I'm right. This is sweet. Syrupy, even." With a sudden growl of irritation, I pounded my fists once on his chest. It wasn't strictly necessary, but I do love touching it, and I'll latch onto any excuse. "But you're an idiot."

"What?" He held my elbows cupped in his palms for just a moment before I pulled away.

After flipping to the title page of the book, I showed it to him. "Will you please read this publication date?"

"1927."

"And don't you think societal mores and norms might have changed in the last eighty years?"

"Minerva assured me that this one hadn't."

I allowed myself to be momentarily diverted from the topic at hand. "Oh my god! You asked Minerva about our sex life?"

"Hermione, she's like a mother to me!"

"Oh my god, you'd ask your mother about our sex life?"

Severus hissed and grabbed me by the shoulders. "I. Wanted. You. To. Feel. Special." He punctuated each word with a small shake, before crushing his lips to mine.

"Mmmmm…" I grumbled and thrust my tongue into his mouth. With his long hair wrapped around my fingers, and his hands cupping my bum so that he could rub his erection against me, I felt we were finally _communicating_. When his kiss had slid to my neck, I groaned, "Severus, take me to bed. _Please_ don't make me beg."

He stilled, his crooked teeth pressed against the muscle where my neck and shoulder met. "Are you sure? Will you feel the same way in the morning? It would be… unsettling to me if you had… regrets."

Pulling back, I looked him directly in his dark eyes, and let him see. We were silent until he blinked and shivered. "No regrets," I whispered and took his hand, leading him to my bed.

* * *

His arm curled under my neck, supporting me as he pressed lazy kisses to my jaw. "You are lovely," he murmured, and then dragged the tip of his tongue around the shell of my ear. He lay next to me, leaving his other hand free to unzip my dress and sneak inside to stroke the soft skin of my belly tentatively with his fingertips.

It was… nice, I suppose.

Snape pulled far enough away to peel my bodice down before leaning over to place reverent kisses on my breastbone. "Darling," he whispered. He took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the remnants of my perfume.

I looked up at the tin ceiling tiles. There were eleven lengthwise and ten widthwise, and each tile was a square foot. Therefore, my room was 110 ft². Light as silk, his fingers traced the lines of my clavicle. I wondered how tall my walls were. I could calculate the cubic feet, then.

"Snape?" I asked.

He made a soft noise of inquiry while placing butterfly kisses against my temple.

"Every night I think about you and touch myself."

Severus stilled and then pulled back to look at me. I licked the quizzical quirk of his mouth and then continued, "Sometimes, I think about sucking your cock while you're sitting at your desk. In my fantasies, you are wearing your frock coat with every single button done up tightly, and your dragonhide boots are on your feet, but the placket of your trousers is open, and your gorgeous cock is out and shoved down my throat."

Against my leg, his semi-soft erection hardened magnificently, and his hand left its innocent perch near my neck to slide up the inside of my thigh.

"That's very naughty, Hermione. It's wrong to consider using my office for such a dirty thing."

"I know. I'm very sorry." I tried to sound contrite, but it was hard when talking dirty was making me breathless, and oh-my-god, he'd better be going where I thought he was going with those fingers.

"What happens next in this fantasy of yours? I need to know so that I know best how to punish you later," his voice had deepened, and his hand slipped between my legs to press hard against my mound. I resisted my immediate impulse to rub against him.

"Well, I'm completely naked and kneeling between your thighs. One of your hands is wrapped around the base of your shaft and the other is tangled in my hair, forcing me to take you deeper in my throat."

His hips shifted. "Good girl for including such vivid detail. But, Ms. Granger, you're very, very wet. Much wetter than before you admitted wanting to use me in such a fashion." Here he allowed his fingers to push aside the crotch of my panties and pinch my clit. "Could it be that you are enjoying telling me about all of your dirty, perverted fantasies?"

"Oh, never, sir!" I cried out as he slid two fingers down either side of my nubbin.

"Very well. You may continue in your recitation, Ms. Granger."

"Yes, sir. I suck you hard, as hard as I can, swirling my tongue over your tip every time I get to the top. I can tell you're close because I can feel your cock twitching and getting even thicker-" I cried out then because he bit my nipple hard through my bra, and I couldn't help but grind against his hand where it lay once more pressed tight against my mound.

"You will not rub against me like a woman of easy virtue, Ms. Granger." His tongue slid down between my breasts chasing a bead of sweat. "Do you understand?"

When I didn't respond, he hissed, "Do. You. Understand?" Every word was punctuated by a light slap to my clit.

"Yes, oh yes! YES!" I shouted as I experienced a minor trembler orgasm.

Severus looked at me with something akin to adoration in his eyes. "Pray continue before I lose my patience, Ms. Granger."

"Yeh-yes, sir. My mouth waters for you, sir. I suck you until your eyes cross, but before you come in my mouth, you pull me up and flip me over so that I'm face down on your desk."

"Do I fuck you there on my desk? Do I push your face down to my blotter and plow into you from behind?" His voice rasped against my ear, and I nodded frantically, rolling my hips. Severus groaned and undid the clasp of my bra, sucking my nipple between his teeth. His pointer and middle fingers slid in and out of me with an obscene, wet noise.

"Gods, you filthy girl. Get on your hands and knees with your panties pulled down to mid-thigh, and pull your skirt up to your waist."

I bit my lip and hastened to comply, although I was sad to lose sight of him.

Severus's hand came down without warning, falling firmly between my legs. I rocked forward, my eyes wide. _This_ was more like it.

Again, his hand stung my cunt, and I cried out. Once more his hand connected, and then he Vanished my panties and spread my legs wider.

"Please, Severus."

"Your pussy is glorious, Ms. Granger." I felt one of his digits slide slowly into me. It was slightly curled, and the pad of his finger rubbed me just right. "Surely you don't think I'm going to deny myself the pleasures of it before I take you?"

I felt him shift on the bed behind me, and then his face was between my legs, licking my swollen and abused clit gently. He groaned and cupped his hands on my arse. "Settle on my face, Hermione. Let me kiss and lick you."

"Yesss," I moaned and rode his tongue as he dragged it to my hole and slid it inside. It twisted and turned, exploring every inch of my canal, greedily sucking the moisture off of my tender flesh. Before I could take another breath, I came screaming on his face.

He teased me for another moment with gentle, loose kisses, but when I calmed, he flipped me on my back and kneeled, sitting on his heels. I realized muzzily that he was still completely clothed. "Severus, take your shirt off and come here to me." I opened my arms.

"Dirty girls don't get to tell me what to do or how to take them," he growled. My eyes popped open, and I felt the lassitude received from that man's talented tongue sluice off me like water off a roof. Snape was staring at me with hot eyes, his mouth quirked in a half-smile as he unbuttoned his trousers.

With each successive button, my eyes got wider as it dawned on me that he wasn't wearing underwear. I could see the tip of his rosy cock protruding from the top of his half-open pants. A gleam of liquid shone there, and mesmerized, I watched as he palmed it and slowly rubbed it up and down his shaft, while his other hand slipped the remaining three buttons free, granting me with a complete view of that beautiful organ.

"Oh gods," I choked, watching one of his hands move up and down while the other snuck beneath the fabric of his trousers to cup his balls. "Severus, I want to…"

"No," he said. "You may not touch me." He licked his palm and stroked his cock with firmer strokes, and I stared, open-mouthed, as his moistened shaft glistened in the dim light of my bedroom. He groaned and arched, thrusting himself more firmly into his fist. His crow eyes burned as he stared at me and masturbated.

"Oh god, please," I moaned.

"No. Lay back and let me see you touch yourself, Hermione. Spread your legs wider." When I complied, he choked out, "Gods, you're gorgeous. Tease that pretty pussy for me." His hand worked harder, and I watched him suck his lower lip into his mouth until it popped free on a moan, shiny and wet.

"Please, Severus. _Please_. I need you." I felt fractured, disjointed from my normal, orderly thought processes. All I knew was that I wanted Snape to pin me down and fuck me with that thick, pink cock. "Pleeeease," I whined, stroking my clit furiously.

He pushed his trousers down his hips and leaned over me, almost casually removing my hand from my cunt. "All right," he said, and sucked my fingers into his mouth. With a precision that I'd come to expect from him, Severus slipped inside me. His eyes locked on mine, his cheeks hollowed from laving my digits, he fucked me slow and hard, every slide stretching me until I groaned from the pleasure. Three years of celibacy had left me so tight that each stroke split me in two, and every time he pulled out, I'd hook my heels around his legs and pull him back in so that I could revel in that glorious fullness.

Severus pulled one of my legs from around his waist and hooked it over his elbow. Leaning forward, he pounded me harder and faster until I could hear the wet slap of our flesh.

"Don't close your eyes," he ground out, and I forced my lids open, unaware that they'd fallen shut from pleasure. His gaze burned me, and long before I expected to come again, I found myself teetering on the edge of orgasm. My nails curled in the sheets as I tumbled howling into pleasure, and as I fell, one thought flashed through my mind.

"_Gods, I love that man_."

His eyes widened, and he exploded inside me, the tendons on his neck standing out in stark relief.

In slow motion, he tumbled down on top of me, his face pressed into my neck and his chest heaving. I squirmed a bit, the wool from his frock coat itchy against the tender flesh of my chest. "Thank goodness," I said as I stroked his back. "I'm so glad you're perverted."

He began to laugh helplessly against my neck, and I squealed when he bit me. "That was not perverted, my dear. Just dirty and intense."

"Oh goodie. So we've got lots of ground to cover to get to the United Kingdom of Perversion."

With an exhausted gesture, he wordlessly and wandlessly Divestoed himself of his clothing. Nuzzling into my chest, he murmured, "Yes, lots."

* * *

I awoke in the middle of the night to Snape trying to shove my entire left tit into his mouth, and his erection nudging my hip.

"I can smell your breath from here, Severus. Go brush your teeth and then come back," I murmured, half-asleep still.

Grumbling, he disentangled his limbs from mine and padded to my bathroom naked, erection bobbing proudly. "I think perversion for you would be defined by a lack of dental hygiene."

"Maybe so," I yawned and watched him open the door with my eyelids partially-closed. Suddenly, my heart dropped into my feet. I sat up and shouted, "Wait!" just as the lights flickered on.

"Good lord, the angle IS that jaunty!" my mirror-Snape exclaimed, amazed. "Jump up and down! Like this!"

"Hermione?" Severus asked, sounding bemused.

"Yes, dearling?" I whispered.

"Why is my mirror image waggling its genitals at me?"

Sagging with relief, I realized that he didn't grasp that the mirror had been charmed to always reflect naked, erect Severus since currently, he _was_ naked and sported an erection.

"It's a pervert mirror. Come back to bed now. You can waggle your genitals at me any time you like."

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_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it!_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I do not own the HP characters, but I think about them naked all the time. This is done purely for pleas- erm, fun._

_SMUT ALERT: First half up until the line break is very, very M!  
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When I awoke, Severus was already inside me. He held utterly and completely still, pressing gentle kisses to the side of my neck, his chest warm against my back. The moment I opened my eyes, he knew it, and I felt his mouth curl by my ear.

"Good morning. I've already brushed my teeth while you were snoring."

"I don't snore," I lied knowing full well that I sounded like a drunken centaur.

"Yes, dear." He pulled out slowly before easing back in, and I couldn't help but whimper and arch my back. "I discovered something interesting, though," he added.

"Nnnnnggh," I drooled as he flexed his hips.

He slid his hand beneath my thigh and pulled it up in the air to grant himself greater access. "Hermione, you despicable girl, why did you charm your mirror in such a lewd fashion?"

I stilled even as his hands plucked my nipples and his teeth nibbled on my neck.

"Get off me."

He froze. "Hermione?"

"Off, Severus."

Snape let go. I rolled over to see him lying on his back, hands tucked beneath his head, studying my ceiling tiles. His expression was a neutral mask. Silly man. I imagined that a lifetime of rejection primed one to expect the worst, but I hoped that he'd grant me the rest of his years to break him of the habit.

I threw my leg over his hips and carefully slid onto his erection, using my hand to nestle him home. "I should have thought it was perfectly obvious why I'd want to stare at your luscious self whenever possible. After all, it should be clear that I love your cock."

And just that easily, his eyes warmed and his smile returned, although it was a trifle too smug for my taste. I reached behind me and nudged the back of his knees, prompting him to bend them so I could lean back. "Come on. I'll fuck your brains out in a moment. I didn't get much of a chance to look at you yet since you were in too much of a hurry last night to take your pants and coat off while it was still light enough to see."

His eyebrow arched. "_I_ was in too much of a hurry? I wasn't the one keening, 'Severus, pleeeeease! Use your manly love wand on me!'" He said the last in a falsetto that sounded swotty and dishearteningly like me.

Ogling his chest, I said, "Mmm, yes. I have no recollection of that." A small shiver went through me, straight down to my core, and joined with me, Severus couldn't help but feel it. His eyes fluttered shut. "Is it wrong that I think the hair under your arms is incredibly sexy?"

"I noticed. You gave my mirror-doppelganger veritable shrubbery beneath his."

"Could my dulcet tones charm small mammals from said shrubbery?"

"As long as you are using those tones to shout, 'Oh, Severus, oh, Severus!,' I guarantee that any and all parts of me will be charmed." He ran his hands up my thighs, past my waist, and cupped my breasts. "Do you think I could persuade you to move on me?"

"In a minute. I'm not done ogling."

He sighed, very much put upon. I watched his chest rise and fall. I was surprised the man was so muscular. He wasn't _bulky_, but there was no mistaking the fact that Severus was very fit. "What do you do for exercise?" I asked.

"Run, but I'm hoping to add you to my regimen." He hissed in pleasure when I licked my forefinger and began tracing the numerous hex and curse scars on his torso. Pinching his nipples caused him to jump and then moan.

"You're just lovely," I sighed.

"That's the first time I have ever heard that sentiment expressed." His mouth quirked.

"I'm sure it won't be the last."

Sitting up, I ran my hands down my front, cupping my breasts. Slowly, I began to move on him, my head thrown back, my fingers nails scratching against my puckered nipples. Pressing my soft mounds, I brought my mouth close and allowed my tongue to snake out and lave the tip.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured and sat up so that he could capture my mouth in a slow, searing kiss. His tongue rubbed lazily against mine, while his arms cocooned me in his warmth, one around my waist, the other grasping my hips as I rubbed up and down his cock. "Faster. I want to see your pretty tits bounce."

I leaned back into his supporting arms and worked my hips faster. His eyes were fastened to my chest, but his clever fingers had stroked down my tummy, and his thumb was rubbing over my clit. Leaning forward, Severus's mouth captured one of my nipples with his hot mouth, teeth rubbing, tongue flicking. I cried out and worked his cock harder, trying to milk him for every ounce of pleasure I could steal for myself.

He was a tremendously generous lover, allowing me to use him to fill the ache in my core, when I could tell by the burning of his eyes and the tenseness in his arms and back that all he wanted was to flip me over and pound me through the mattress. It was his upward thrusts and the cage of his arm on my back that finally pushed me over the edge, my clit rubbing hard against his pubic bone. I screamed and convulsed around his cock.

When it was over, I found myself lying on my back in my bed. Severus laid over me, pressing drugging kisses to my mouth, still hard and heavy inside of me. I wriggled slightly, uncomfortable and feeling chafed. He gentled me with his mouth, sweet kisses dragged up my neck, and when he felt me relax beneath his weight, he pressed in hard against me. I made a small hiccupping cry and arched my back, and he released the pressure. He didn't move even an inch, but the press and release of his pubis against my clit was… stimulating. My eyes fluttered shut.

His fingers teased over my breasts, taking a moment to roll the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I hummed in pleasure, and his hair stroked over my belly.

"Hook your hands behind your knees, Hermione."

He pressed kisses down between my breasts, and as he moved lower, I was sad to feel him slide out of me. I felt empty, hollow without him. I forgot to miss him though when his tongue dipped into my navel and continued down.

The first graze of his tongue felt like a shock to my system, and I moaned and spread my legs wider. I felt a gush of liquid between my thighs, and he licked at it eagerly. Leaning against my pillows, I watched him suck gently on my pussy, his lips shining from my juices.

Our eyes were locked as he played me like an instrument, and he pulled away for just a moment to say, "Go ahead. Do it."

"Bastard," I muttered affectionately, incapable of working up true irritation at his use of Legilimancy on me again. Instead, I reached forward to grasp his hair to pull his face viciously against my cunt, and when his tongue slid down to my canal, I flexed my hips against his mouth repeatedly, seeing stars when he rubbed the blunt edge of his teeth against my clit. Just like that, he was gone from between my legs.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he snarled and lunged forward, impaling me with his cock. His blunt head jammed into my cervix and I cried out in pleasurepain. "Take it, witch," he growled.

"Yes yes, I will. I'll take it all. Pleeease, more."

His pressed me to the bed, holding me in place as he fucked me hard and fast, ensuring that I didn't bang my head against the headboard. Searching for more, he pulled my legs from his waist and rested them on his shoulders. The angle ensured that when he leaned forward, my back curled and my hips rose from the bed. With every stroke, he rubbed against an immeasurably hot spot in my tummy, and every stroke pushed me closer to the pinnacle of my pleasure.

"Gods. Come, witch. _Come_," he panted, his face tormented.

And I did. Seeing the stark desire on his face was enough that I exploded, hot waves of pleasure shooting straight to my toes. The ripples of my orgasm triggered his own, and his eyes squeezed shut and he came deep inside of me, shouting my name.

* * *

I've always prided myself on being a sensible witch, but I let myself down then. Instead of snuggling up and patting him firmly on his butt like a high-spirited racehorse, I burst into tears. Snape had just given me the single most powerful sexual experience in my life, and every neuron firing in unison from my pleasure center shorted out my brain's path to my mouth.

"Why are you crying?" He'd reared back on his elbows above me and his expression was tight as he looked down at me.

"I just… I just… that was so good," I sobbed.

"There's no reason for the waterworks." His words were rough, and his eyes were panicked.

I hiccupped unattractively, choking on my own spit. "I just think you have a lovely cock and a lovely way about you. I love it. Your cock. And sex with you, and… oh sod it all, I love you, Severus."

And he laughed! The bastard laughed and rolled onto his side, pulling me with him. He held me to his chest and whispered, "Hush, my little witchling. Hush now."

It didn't escape my notice that he didn't say it back.

* * *

"Gracious heavens! You're both glowing!" Minerva accused when she entered the Great Hall for breakfast, her mouth pursed like a wrinkled prune. She minced into the seat next to me, every line of her body rigid and nearly radiating disapproval.

I peeked guiltily at Severus and noticed that he did indeed look very fine. His posture, while as upright as ever, showed a release in tension. He held his shoulders low and back, calling attention to his muscled chest. (Yum.) Having just come from a romp in the shower, his hair was squeaky clean and tucked behind his ears. The lines around his mouth from his perpetual frown had smoothed out so that, while still present on his face, they were not etched as deeply.

He looked thirty-five again. It's amazing what sex with a woman nineteen years younger will do for one's outlook.

"Minerva, I have no idea what you're babbling on about," he said, eyeing the students who were just sitting down at their house tables for breakfast.

"But Severus," she whispered, leaning forward so that she could talk around me. I had a sudden, vivid fantasy of her tartan-swagged chapeau falling into the platter of eggs on the table. "It's as clear as the nose on your face that you two have…" Here, the older witch flapped her hand at us in what I'm guessing she thought was a suggestive gesture. "What happened to the _Ins and Outs of Courting_?"

Giggling, I responded, "Severus is already a dab hand at the _ins_ and _outs_ of it." I lookup up when I heard a choked noise. Severus appeared to have inhaled a bite of potato. I smacked him on the back vigorously. The students were eyeing us with a combination of fear and speculation, and he straightened immediately and glared. They were all suddenly terribly interested in the standard-issue Hogwarts serving ware.

"Well!" Minerva huffed. "_That's_ not very ladylike." Gulping several mouthfuls of over-pale, over-sweetened tea, she sat back and ignored us, her hat nearly vibrating from the judgmental somersaults in which her brain was engaging.

I was pleased that Severus hadn't moved away from my hand on his back. It had been a bit of a risk to touch him so openly. After all, I had a vivid memory of a conversation in Diagon Alley where he'd admitted to me that years spent with the Dark Lord had made him wary of showing affection in public. Loved ones could be and frequently were used against Death Eaters to ensure obedience. I'd kept my voice pitched low in responding to Minerva, and my touch, while enthusiastic, had been impersonal. Still, Severus from a month ago would have set me back with a cool look or a dismissive insult.

His lack of reaction had gone a long way towards soothing my nerves in regards to my blubbery and slightly mucusy post-coital confessional. Severus hadn't brought up my embarrassing emotional sputum, but he'd been quieter since this morning. I honestly hadn't been sure what to expect.

It certainly wasn't for Snape to place his hand on the table next to mine, allowing his pinky to stroke the back of my own. I felt the color build in my cheeks, and he smirked into his bowl of oatmeal.

The peace of breakfast was shattered when the Owl Post arrived.

There on the front page of the Daily Prophet was a photograph of Severus and me kissing at Harry and Ginny's anniversary party. It had captured us at our most intimate. I was bent back over his arm, his mouth locked to mine, and my fingers clenched in passion around fistfuls of his hair. One of his hands cupped and kneaded my bum. We were _devouring_ each other. At the last moment, before the photograph reset itself, we Apparated out of frame. Even Neville Longbottom would have been able to figure out what was about to happen between us. The headline read, "Unattractive War Hero and Former Death Eater Commit Act of Public Indecency."

The Great Hall burst into whispers and muffled snickers. I cast worried eyes to Snape. His shoulders tensed and bowed and his cheeks drain of color. He looked mortified. He looked… frightened.

"Severus," I whispered, appealing. His eyes remained glued to the animated photo of us snogging.

He shot to his feet and stalked off, his chair clattering to the ground behind him. He didn't spare me a glance. He just left, forcing me to face the stares of hundreds of students alone.

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_A/N: Like it, love it, hate it, review it!_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Good news! Not dead! Here's a chapter!**_

_**Warnings: Language from start to finish, and dirtyness throughout the second half. I swear I'll eventually be able to convince them to get on with the plot, and stop stripping naked. Next chapter. I promise.**_

_**I own nothing you recognize, despite spending a great deal of time obsessing over it. Thanks to Aurette for the alpha read! She's the bestest.**_

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**Chapter Twelve**

When I finally tracked him down, he was in his office speaking via Floo with Ginny. I had a lovely shot of his arse as he leaned into the flames. I leaned back against his desk and waited for him to notice me.

"You are not in my good graces, Mrs. Potter." The arctic chill in his voice cast a shiver down my spine. "I won't have my privacy invaded in such a manner. My relationship with Ms. Granger is not for public consumption, and the last thing I want is for her to be subjected to lewd speculation by the mouth-breathers that subscribe to the Prophet! You had best figure out who took the photo. I want his or her name, and I want it immediately."

"Not a problem, Professor," Ginny said, her face solemn. "I can't believe someone at our party would be so indecent as to take a photo like that and then sell it to trash like Rita Skeeter."

Severus' voice was dry as a spinster's panties as he replied, "Really? I can think of any number of people who attended your party and are just that indecent. Your brother is at the top of that list, of course."

"Yes, well. All right, that's probably true." She bit her lip. "Do you really think he was sober enough to take such a clear, high-quality photograph?" Ginny frowned, then brightened. "It really was fantastic. The kiss was really hot, and by the time Harry pried it away from me, it was all rumpled and sweaty from my hands. Tell me, Professor," she leaned forward, her eyelids at half-mast, "have you ever heard of swingers?"

"Ginny!" I shouted over Snape's horrified exclamation. "Stop mewling after my boyfriend!"

Severus jumped and slammed his head on the mantel. "Fuck! Goddamn that hurt!"

"Oh, Hermione. Put down the hackles. You know I like to tease. Plus, I was testing him for you. Now you don't have to worry because you know he won't cheat on you."

"I wasn't worried about that in the first place! Severus is an honorable man."

The look he cast over his shoulder at me was smouldering. He turned back to face my friend and snarled, "Don't contact us again until you have news to report on the idiot who thought he could paint a target on our backs." He ended the Floo call with that abrupt command and stalked over to me.

Slipping an arm around my waist, he growled and yanked me against his chest. "I'll have you know that I am not your _boy_friend. I am your lover." He placed his mouth below my ear and inhaled deeply, setting all the tiny hairs on my body tingling.

"That's all well and good, but one doesn't just go about _announcing _that. It's off-putting." His tongue swiped my jugular, and I squealed. "People find it… creepy. Saying 'this is my lover' immediately makes everyone think about us having sex."

He pulled back confused, anger fading from his eyes. "What?"

"You know…" I rolled my eyes. "When someone says something like that, you can't help but picture them in improbable sexual positions."

Snape's eyebrows tented. "I've never had that particular experience."

I shrugged. "If it makes you feel less like a dirty old man to lie about it, that's fine."

We stood staring at each other for a few minutes, his hands on my waist, thumbs rubbing small circles. The worry lines in his face faded slowly, and he pulled me close so he could rest his cheek on my hair.

"You left me upstairs alone to face Minerva's prurient curiosity and a gaping student body." I said it quietly, trying to make light of it.

I felt his chest expand and contract as he sighed. His hand slid down my back and rubbed. "Yes."

"That wasn't fair."

"No, I suppose not."

We stood in silence pressed chest to chest. "If you do it again, I'll kick you in your Quaffles."

"Duly noted." He pulled back and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I didn't even think of it, honestly. I was filled with such…" His fingers slide back into his greasy hair.

"Rage?"

"Fear. Gods, the fear, Hermione. You have no idea the absolutely craven terror that flooded me when I saw our… closeness blasted across the headlines of that piece of trash rag." He sank into his desk chair, and pinned me with his dark eyes. "I have avoided personal entanglements for nearly two decades for this very reason. My life was devoted to our cause." Snape huffed. "Solely. I couldn't allow myself a lover, because to love someone was to put her in danger."

My stomach immediately pitched, and I felt blood rush to my face. _Did he just imply he loves me? _

"I do understand," I said and was proud I sounded so mature when all I wanted to do was scream and stomp and smother him with my breasts until he admitted that he had feelings for me.

"The war is over, it's true. However, I am aware that there are people who still embrace the Pure Blood doggerel. I have made you… a mark." His fears haunted his eyes, and he reached out a hand to me.

"Oh, Severus." I took his hand and allowed him to pull me into his lap. "You are so smart, but so narcissistic."

His mouth compressed into a tight white line, and when he tried to push me off his lap, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. He snarled, "If I am so objectionable, I wonder that you see fit to spend your time in my company."

I began to giggle. "You are also delightfully Victorian sometimes." I laid my head on his shoulder. "Severus, I was already a mark. I'm the Muggleborn third of the Golden Trio. There are oodles of people who would love to punish me for my role in the Final Battle." I pressed a kiss into his neck, taking a moment to smell his spicy aftershave. "Mmmm," I hummed against the point of his jaw, letting my tongue flick out to taste his earlobe.

He sat still, his arms threaded around my waist. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

I turned and straddled him. "I'm strong, Severus. You don't need to worry; I can defend myself." I ground down on his hardening erection. "Besides," I said, saving the best for last. "I'm probably safer dating you."

At that he tipped his face up and looked into my eyes. "How so?"

"You've been a spy for twenty years. You've got instincts that I haven't. You're like a human Sneak-o-scope!"

I watched his gaze sharpen. Felt his hands curl around my hips. He licked his lips. "You know, that's true." He tilted his pelvis ever so slightly to give me more room to rub against him. "I could protect you."

"Hey," I said, wrapping my fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to receive my open-mouthed kiss. He received it with enthusiasm, tilting his head so his nose brushed my cheek. I pulled away and said, "I don't need a protector. I don't _want_ a protector. But I'd be very happy if we could… look out for each other."

He nodded, looking poleaxed.

I kissed him and then pulled away. It wasn't easy because he wasn't particularly keen on the idea of me getting up off his lap, but I smacked his hands away and said, "Behave. I've got an idea."

"So do I." He gave his tented trousers a significant look.

"You'll like this." I cocked my head. "Well, I hope you will, because _I'll _certainly get off on it. Stay there."

* * *

I stepped outside his office and transfigured my robes into a Gryffindor Hogwarts uniform with a few minor adjustments. My skirt was significantly shorter, and my sweater tighter and made of cashmere. I pulled the pins out of my hair and flipped it over my head and back so it regained some of its former frizzy glory. With that, I knocked on his door.

"Enter," he said gruffly.

I pushed open the door, my lower lip pinched between my teeth. He sat facing the door, legs splayed wide, rubbing his erection through the wool of his trousers. "Oh!" I said, whirling around. "I'm so sorry, Professor Snape. I've obviously confused the time. I thought you wanted me to come work on my special project. I didn't mean to interrupt you…"

When he didn't respond, I peeked over my shoulder to see him staring at me, his mouth quirked. I couldn't tell if he was amused or annoyed. "Is this what you think I fantasize about? Having sex with my students?"

"What? No!" I turned to face him. "This is my fantasy, not yours."

"You fantasize about having sex with my students?"

"No!" I wanted to stomp my foot. "When I came back after the Final Battle and redid my seventh year, I… had a crush on you. I used to think about coming into your office, and…" I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

His expression was considering as he used the tip of his finger to trace his lips. "When you came back after the Final Battle? A year _after_ you would have normally graduated if there'd been no war."

I nodded.

"You'd have been eighteen?"

"Nineteen because of the Time Turner from third year."

"Ms. Granger, you are two minutes late." His voice cracked between us causing me to jump. "Explain yourself." He was still sitting splayed in his chair.

"I… I'm sorry, sir." I watched in interest as his erection, which had flagged during our conversation, once more pressed against the placket of his trousers. I licked my lips. "I have no explanation."

"Five points from Gryffindor for being late. Proceed through to my _personal_ laboratory and immediately begin crushing the doxy wings with the marble mortar and pestle."

"Yes, sir." I'd intended to stay in his office, maybe try a little mundane blow job fantasy, but he'd obviously worked up something more elaborate in his head, and I was more than willing to play. I rolled the top of my skirt so that the bottom edge was nearly indecently high, and then walked into his potions lab.

I moved to the top cabinet where his mortar and pestle were stored, and bent down far lower than necessary in order to pick up a step stool kept on hand to reach the upper shelves. Ignoring his heated gaze, I stepped onto the stool and stretched to take down the implement.

"Ms. Granger, surely you are aware that I can see your bottom."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Professor!" I attempted to demurely smooth my skirt down with just one hand, as the other was wrapped around the mortar and pestle. Instead, I only managed to stroke my hand over my quim and moan.

His open robes framed a now truly impressive erection. He pointed to the worktop where he'd placed the container holding the ingredient and ground out, "Doxy wings, Ms. Granger. Now."

I sashayed to the table and measured out an ounce of wing into the mortar. Choking the pestle with a tight grasp, I gleefully mutilated the ingredient, crumbling it into uneven chunks. Within seconds, his heat crept across my back, and his voice rumbled by my ear.

"Application of proper potion technique, please. Wrap your fingers a bit more loosely around the shaft…" He choked on a laugh. "I'm afraid the metaphor fails after that to some extent. I'd really prefer if you didn't use my cock to grind things to powder."

"_Severus_, stay in character," I hissed.

He cleared his throat, and I could hear the smile in it. "Let me help you, Ms. Granger." His hand covered mine as he stepped in even closer. I could feel the bulge at his trouser front nestle between my arse cheeks. He used his chin to push back my bushy hair and laid his cheek against mine. The bristle of his scruff brushed lightly, so lightly against my jawline. "Now slow. Steady. Rhythmically, Ms. Granger." I struggled to follow his instructions through a rising haze of lust, but it became almost impossible when he turned his lips to my ear and growled, "Oh, that's very good."

He stretched the r out. _Verrrry good_. With his hot breath against my ear and washing down my neck, my brain became fuzzy, and I became far less concerned with my potions preparation than I was with the fact that my nipples had become so tight they ached.

"Good girl. Keep going. Focus on your technique. A good Potions master or mistress must be able to focus on his work no matter what is going on around him or her. Can you do that, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, sir," I lied happily, knowing that I was going to fail abominably. He hadn't even really touched me, and it was all I could do to ensure that I didn't grind my own fingers into paste with the pestle.

"Good." He said it on an exhalation of air, and his praise wrapped around me just as his hands slid to my waist. "Keep going." His fingers tucked under the hem of my cashmere sweater and coasted up my ribs, stopping for just a moment to circle my belly button.

"Oh, Professor Snape, I don't think…"

"You shouldn't be thinking right now, Ms. Granger. You should be focusing on your technique. It's gotten remarkably sloppy. I haven't even touched your tight little nipples, and you've already slowed down until you've nearly stopped. And look there, you've just spilt a little."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better," I panted.

"By the end of this lesson, I expect you to have perfect execution of this grinding technique, even if my tongue is buried in your pussy." He nipped my ear, and then laved it with his tongue. "Just as an example, of course, Ms. Granger."

I swayed, unable to help myself. His hands steadied me. "Of course, sir."

"Then proceed." So I began to grind the doxy wings once more, and his hands slipped up my ribs until he was gently cupping my breasts. I knew he could feel how tight my nipples were even through the weight of my cotton bra, because he moaned and petted them with his thumbs. "Grind, Ms. Granger." So I rubbed my arse against his erection, and though he flexed against me, he gasped, "The wings, if you please."

He flicked the front clasp of my bra open, and I spilled into his hands. "I'm going to pet and stroke your pretty tits. I'm going to pinch your nipples until they're red and ripe, and you're begging me to put my mouth on them, Ms. Granger."

I said nothing. Doggedly, I ground the damn wings.

"Oh, good girl. _Verrry good_." Snape leaned over and pressed his mouth against my neck. His wet tongue snaked from my shoulder to that hot spot behind my ear, and then he rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. My legs wobbled, and I couldn't help it. I dropped the pestle, and it rolled, knocking the bottle containing the rest of the doxy wings onto the floor.

Immediately Snape's heat was gone from my back. I turned to see him austerely tucking his hands into his sleeves. "Clumsy. We'll have to get more from the storeroom. Follow me."

* * *

_**A/N: Could it BE? The titular storeroom? TUNE IN TO FIND OUT. I'm on a fanfic writing binge, children. I solemnly promise to finish this story before finishing and posting any others. Also, as I am slowly writing the final chapters, I'm going to be hacking and slashing at the first ten or eleven chappies. Baby needs a good edit.**_

_**Like it, love it, hate it, review it!**_


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